Blood's Requiem
by Larania Drake
Summary: First her barn, then her house. Shandra gets closer to the Captain, to Casavir, and trying to make sense of her broken life and make it anew. Revised, now with slashy undertones.
1. Chapter 1

**Blood's Requiem**

**Chapter One**

Disclaimer: Neverwinter Nights 2 belongs to Obsidian Entertainment and Wizards of the Coast, and I make no money from this work of fanfiction at all.

Pairings: None in this chapter. Some UST

Warnings: Spoilers for chapter two of the game, slight AU regarding the storyline, and Shandra blatantly admiring Casavir.

Summary: First her barn, then her house. Shandra has to deal with crazy barbarians, a gorgeous Paladin and the rest of the crazies in Neverwinter while trying to make some sense of her broken life.

A/N: This is a story to answer the question of why Shandra, who had every reason to really dislike the PC, would die to save the PC and friends. It is largely a character piece and an attempt to tell the story through Shandra's eyes while providing some UST at the same time. Any feedback is appreciated and I hope that I have edited most of the crud out. The story takes place as a series of memories while Shandra talks to the demons and devils of Jerro's Haven.

* * *

//"Only do this if you want to, Shandra."

_Those words broke the heavy silence, but they helped to steady her, a little. Shandra's gaze had been transfixed, and with a shudder she shifted her attention away from the blood stained, worn pedestal before the Jerro Guardian._

_She knew that the Captain wouldn't ever make her do something she didn't want to do, and for a moment she was tempted to do just that: run away and back to the relative safety of the Sunken Flagon or to Crossroads Keep. She had already lost one home. No one would find fault with her if she just left; she didn't owe them anything._

_She could feel Yasha's eyes on her back, waiting._

_If there was anything she had learned, it was that Yasha Miller had a protective streak wider than the Neverwinter River, and that the woman certainly wouldn't hold it against her. She would be disappointed, but Yasha would understand. Then she would then go in, and shake the planes themselves looking for another way in, but she wouldn't hold it against Shandra. Gods knew she wished Yasha would sometimes just go in and ask, or take, what she wanted without being so damn tentative about it. _

_Gods knew, she wished that she wasn't here, standing in an empty, echoing ravine, in front of a massive construct that called for her blood. At least it was just a drop and not the pint that she had been told. Yet she knew she had been lying to herself, because if it helped them, if it helped _her,_ Shandra knew she would do it. Since signing on with this mad company, she knew there was no turning back._

_"All right." Shandra swallowed nervously, but managed to bare her teeth in a smile. "I know you all will have my back, in case the summons goes wrong." _

_She drew a dagger, not one of her short swords (which she hadn't had time to clean properly) and pricked her finger. _

_"Damn." _

_It hurt; it seemed like she could be stabbed in the shoulder and it wouldn't hurt so much as when she cut herself. Dark red, completely normal human blood welled up and rolled down to drip on to the odd pedestal before her. _

_Her muscles tensed and she held her breath. She could sense the others- Casavir, Elanee, Neeshka and Yasha- all doing the same. Hands were on weapons, wary of the inevitable fallout of opening a reclusive wizard's personal Haven. Shandra's hands had landed on her swords as she waited for the catastrophe that would surely come._

_It didn't take more than a heartbeat for all of this to occur, as the winds whistled through the barren canyon walls. _

_Shandra blinked; the door had opened. _

_All of her companions exhaled in the heavy silence._

_"Well." Shandra tasted the word, feeling a sense of relief that made her nearly sag. She couldn't turn to look at her companions yet. She knew that Yasha would be smiling and Casavir would be looking on in approval. She didn't think she could handle that right then. "That wasn't so bad…"_

_There was a shift, and the world was pulled out from underneath her, and Shandra was sure she had landed in hell.//_

* * *

My captors hadn't been physically cruel yet, especially when I repeatedly told them I had no idea what they were talking about.

Dammit, why do these things always seem to happen to me? I had been assured I would be safe at the Sunken Flagon. The crazy ranger lady had been kind even when I had yelled at her, and Casavir's reassurances had gone a long way to making me feel secure in this place even after the loss of my home. Then I had walked away, and…

That was about the last thing I remembered. I hadn't even had time to scream. Those damn githyanki had babbled on and on about '_kalach-cha_ this' and '_kalach-cha_ that' and I started to wonder if this was a lynching party, a trap or a fan club. I think they must have eventually drugged me to stop the screaming, because _damn _I screamed. If we were near a settlement, I screamed. If we were in the woods, I would try and leave tracks, and maybe scream a little more. We were in Luskan, so I doubt it did me much good. I didn't know how I knew that Miller and her motley crew would come after me, but I did. I suppose I thought it would just hold true to her pattern- any time bad things happened to me, she would be in the area- and bad things were definitely happening right now.

It had to have been days, maybe a tenday when I found myself in a cage and looking through a portal at what had to be the oldest looking githyanki woman I had ever seen. Not that I had seen many, but…

Illmater have mercy, because I heard them saying what they were going to do to me.

I hate being scared all the time. I hate being helpless. Yet the gods must have heard me, because the repeated phrase "kalach-cha" seemed to speed up, and I could hear a feminine snarl of anger.

I had never been so happy to see someone run (or rather, walk) headlong into danger. And I had never felt so ashamed of myself, because for a moment I had doubted that my personal nemesis would come. When she offered to trade herself for the rest of us… well, I was shamed again. It was stupid that she do it, because gods knew that they would kill us all anyways, but at least she tried.

Several strange silver things flew off Miller's body- they had been in her pack- and she was yanked into the air, arching her back and squawking in pain. My jaw dropped, and I think the githyanki woman did much the same.

"You have… a piece of the sword inside of you," she said, voice flat and confused. My mind fizzled, because that was downright… impossible. Not to mention disgusting.

"It is no matter. We will take it, by force!" the woman behind the barrier hissed, and her guards attacked. After that, Miller then proceeded to do what she did best, in a very spectacular manner.

She threw her head back and _howled_, rage twisting her face as she took a war mace and proceeded to ignore magical blasts and striking blades, and started to break things.

Damn, that woman was_good_ at breaking things.

* * *

Arrival back at the Flagon was anticlimactic at best. There was celebration that I was back safely (and I had to avoid Duncan's hands) and I did my best to sit on the other side of the common room from Bishop.

I eyed my companions, thinking about who would be my new tutor. I had no ability to spell cast- perhaps once, but no longer- and my talents were all blades.

Elanee was a druid, and she fought best as a wild thing, not with weapons. Grobnar- obviously no. I doubted Neeshka would have the patience, the same went for Khelgar, and Casavir used heavy armor and war hammers. Both were great for dealing damage and taking it, but, ah- heavy armor_stinks_. While I didn't object to chain mail, I didn't want to go _that_ far. That left Miller and Bishop, and I would rather be an orc kissing troll than be around Bishop for more than a few minutes.

So, Miller it was then. She's good with two weapons, and if it wasn't for her little temper problem… Still, she tended to be patient with the people in her strange group.

I found myself eyeing the gang again, and shook my head. They all seemed so different from each other. I had to wonder how Miller had picked up so many strays. The first time I had met her, her crew had been walking down the path to my farm. Well, "walking" wasn't really the right term. Khelgar barreled, Elanee strolled, Neeshka glided while Miller seemed to lope. I remembered thinking that she was probably the _largest_ woman I had ever met right off the bat. She was taller than anyone in her party- it was true now even with the addition of two tall human men- at well over six feet, maybe even seven. Yet for all that she was quiet (except when drinking or breaking things or both) and polite, even though I knew she lied to me about why she was there.

Speaking of which… where was she? I took a swallow of my ale, glancing around the common room (and giving Casavir an appreciative glance at his backside) before realizing she was no longer about. I tensed, nearly sloshing my drink, when Grobnar plopped down in front of me.

He babbled, and I had to smile at him because he was just so amusing, but the lack of the female ranger in the room began to make me increasingly nervous. It had been weeks since she had been out of my sight on the long trip back from Luskan. I had taken comfort in seeing her back, knowing that she led the way. As much as Casavir's calming aura, the sight of her blotting out daylight with her big frame reassured me that I wasn't going to be kidnapped again.

I shook my head when I realized that Grobnar had asked me a question. I looked over at him and tried to appear attentive.

"I say, Shandra, are you all right?" the little gnome asked, tilting his head to the side. I shrugged.

"I was about to ask the same question," another voice interrupted, and I winced. Duncan was a nice man, but old enough to be my father and I just wasn't interested in him. I was still grateful for his hospitality. "You look like someone killed your cat."

"No, I don't think that's it," Grobnar corrected. "She looks like someone set her cat's tail on fire, before cutting it off and then stomping on its head. Or maybe even-"

"We get the idea, Gnome," Duncan snapped, and I had to shake my head, some of my nerves dissipating at the rather absurd exchange. I glanced around. Neeshka and Khelgar were in a somewhat congenial argument about who had the better ale, Qara was watching the common room when she should have been wiping the tables, Bishop was leering and Casavir was talking quietly to Elanee.

"Did you see where your niece went?" I asked Duncan, to forestall an argument.

"Yasha? Oh, she wanted to take a bath. Cleanest ranger, or barbarian, I've ever met. You'd think after living in a swamp most of her life she wouldn't like bathing so much, but considering how many hits she takes, I think hot water helps ease the aches. Better than using many hot water bottles, I suppose. She took a bottle of mead with her."

"Ah." I looked around. I gulped the rest of my ale, and grimaced. Nothing was wrong with the ale, but hell. I was just about punch drunk, forgetting the spirits I had already consumed. Bed was calling.

"I'm going on up to my room, Duncan," I said with an uneasy smile. He gave the bartender's _look_, one that priests usually reserve for liars, and nodded. I shrugged at him, and set my drink down, standing and heading for the stairs.

The revelry from the common room became more and more muffled as I went up the stair well, until it was little more than a distant annoyance in the background. My room was on the other end of the hall- the same room I had used on the night I was kidnapped.

Nope, that didn't bother me, not at all. I was just fine with the fact that I was alone. I was completely alone, no candles or lamps, and _not_ ill at ease despite the welcoming soft bed.

I shrugged off my filthy clothes, noting that someone had put a large shirt out for me to wear to sleep. I made myself lie down, straining my ears. I told myself it was just curiosity, to listen to what was going in the common room.

I wasn't listening for the sound of clinking armor or the brush of steel in its scabbard. I couldn't sense magic, and-

I started to doze off, when the idea that someone might be putting a sleeping spell on me made me sit straight up in a cold sweat. A loud thump from down the hall made me jump, and I looked frantically around the room for the maker of the sound.

Okay… no one was there… I could relax. Only I couldn't. I could smell smoke from the kitchen stoves and my gut told me that the tavern was burning down. When it was too quiet, I _knew_ someone had used a silence spell to mask his presence…

I ached all over.

The trip back from Luskan had been unpleasant from lack of beds and a hard pace set by our two rangers. The bed was warm and soft, and I_needed_ sleep. The ale should have relaxed me but all it did was turn off my rational thought, making the paranoia louder.

Another loud thump echoed down the hall, and I sat up again. My hands shook as I grabbed a pillow. As far as I could figure in my slightly tipsy state, I had two options. Settling on the least likely to make tongues wag, I staggered out and stiltedly made my way down the hall before pounding my fist against the smoothed oak of one of the doors.

"Open up! I know you're in there!"

I kept smacking, and between one whack and the next, the door was thrown open, and my knock hit Miller's nose.

"Ow."

"Oh, sorry," I looked at her, and paused, thrown off from my original tear. She was wrapped in a towel, dripping on the floor with her large boar, Edare, behind her. I could see the wooden tub she had used in the corner, taking up much of the floor space in the small bedroom, next to the fire with a bottle of mead on the floor. The scar that the silver thing was under was between her breasts, trailing down over her ribs. I stared at it before looking back up at her face, and tried not to think about what it must have felt like.

"Can I help you with anything?" she asked, distantly polite.

Blond hair was nearly brown from being soaked. Her skin was, like anyone who worked outdoors, weathered and tanned. Somehow she seemed even larger without the armor covering her up- I couldn't excuse her height on the effect of layers of leather and padding. Sweet Chauntea, she was intimidating even now.

"Shandra?" her eyebrows went up. "Are you all right?"

"I'm staying in here," I told her flatly. She blinked.

"If you want to switch rooms-"

"No. I'm staying in here, with you. I told you, I don't like being left behind. I want you right where I can see you."

One of her eyebrows lifted, and she shook her head (then rubbed her bonked nose.) "Are you sure?"

"Yes," I snapped, hugging my pillow like I child. I noticed I was doing it and stopped. I wasn't afraid of her saying no, really. I wasn't.

She paused, face blank. "All right." She stepped aside to give me room and picked up a robe. I walked in, noting that the room had gained some personality from its owner, with a weapon's rack, a wardrobe and some flowers on the mantle. "You take the bed. I'll go see if Uncle Duncan has a spare cot."

Something about that didn't sound quite right to me, but I was too tired to notice. So I collapsed, realizing that the bed was already quite rumpled, and there were bits of armor strewn across it. I didn't quite care at that moment. All that mattered was that my gods-awful paranoia was mollified, knowing that the only person more annoying than the githyanki was staying with me.

I was barely awake when the other woman returned. I could hear her growling softy as she wrestled in a camp cot, and finally dropping it in the space that wasn't taken up by her tub, her boar and her weapons.

She looked at me. I could feel her looming, before sighing gustily and sitting on the cot.

"What's wrong?" I muttered, my face half buried from where I had fallen on the bed and not budged.

"You're on my pillows."

I was feeling demanding right then. After all, it was really all her fault that I had no pillows of my own. Instead I burrowed in further.

Miller sighed again. "Shandra- gimme!"

There was a jerk and I yelped as my head dropped several inches and I propped myself up. Miller was disheveled, still damp, and holding her own pillow like a prize. Any and all intimidation I had felt evaporated.

"Hey, that's mine!" I snarled, reaching out one arm to grab it, but otherwise unmoving. I think I would have been more imitating if my face wasn't half buried.

Miller cracked a tired grin. "Not unless you want to share that bed, Shandra. And it is way too small for that."

"Go to hell."

"Does it have a big bed?"

"I dunno, you could ask…"

Miller looked about as tired as I felt. Considering that she had been the one taking most of the beating, I shouldn't have been surprised. "You going to sleep?"

"Once I lay down."

This was such an enlightening conversation. We sounded like a pair of siblings arguing over… well… who got the bed.

"Gods," I groaned, and tried to roll over. I was partially successful, but wound up on top of something hard and uncomfortable. Sleep was delayed while I tried to fish it out. "Yeah… okay… will you start teaching me?"

"You want me to teach you? What?"

"How to burn down buildings. No, fighting." A massive yawn cracked my jaw as I pulled out a piece of armor and tried to throw it off the bed. I managed, mostly. "Okay?"

"Right. Qara's better at buildings anyways." I was rolled over enough to see her on the cot- her feet hung off the edge. Something in me wanted to be guilty but I was way too relieved and tired to do anything about it. I wasn't alone, even if the person I was with had a bad habit of being in front of scary things. That was okay; she was scarier than they were.

Even if she did look like a rumpled bear.

"'Night, Shandra. I promise I won't go easy on you in the morning."

"Right. Uh huh… now let me sleep."

* * *

She kept her promise, waking me up the next day. It wasn't exactly early, but it wasn't noon yet either.

"This isn't fair," I whined, following Mill- ah, Yasha, into the common room. She didn't answer me, but opened up one of her lesser magic bags and started dumping out equipment. I noticed that the others were doing the same, laying out weapons and armor, magic jewelry and potions. I paused, as Yasha waved me over.

"We'll buy you new stuff as you need it, but until we know what you're best at, just pick and chose here."

"New stuff is too good for me, eh?" I snorted. Figures she'd be a skinflint. Still, there were a few decent pieces. The cold iron short sword we salvaged from my home when we first came to the Flagon was quickly discarded. It was good for simple sell sword work, but gods… with the shit coming after us…

I finally settled on some battered but intact mail and some simple swords. No fancy enchantments, but I would _make_ Yasha buy those for me later. The woman nodded as I chose- and made me eat breakfast- before we went out.

We quickly gathered an audience. People in uniforms that had to be the City Watch gathered around; so did a gaggle of street urchins. Passersby seemed to like the sight of two women beginning to battle it out. I didn't see the appeal, probably because it was my body getting bruised.

Casavir watched us both, giving advice in his even, emotionless tone, while Bishop would just watch. I swear that man made my skin crawl. I would have sooner shared my bed with a snake.

Thinking about him caused more than enough distraction for Yasha to get through my weak guard. Dulled weapons and half speed meant an ache instead of an instant trip to the temple to be resurrected.

"Keep your main weapon pointed at your opponent's eyes," Casavir called.

Without turning to look at him, Yasha shouted back. "Why did the chicken cross the road?"

"Presumably because there was a greater good to be accomplished there."

I took a buffet to my head for stopping and staring. I didn't know if that was a joke or not.

Grobnar and Khelgar shouted encouragement in the background as Yasha showed me form before beating the use of it into me.

"Who the hell taught you?" I muttered- after the third time I was thrown into the dirt- and the question made Yasha pause. "Some kind of demon?"

"My foster father," she answered, her tone decidedly neutral. She offered me a hand up, which I ignored. I had to wonder where this person _came_ from, and how the hell she could…

I sighed, before sitting back in the dirt. It was some nice, comfy dirt. Chauntea likes dirt, and so do I.

* * *

Life fell into a routine after that. Yasha would get up first and I would follow her downstairs (turns out she would help Sal with the dishes) and we would train. She taught me technique, and then would grab others for me to spar against so I could see how best to use those techniques against different fighting styles. I would wind up bruised, bitch about it, and realized that bathing helped me recover my spirits just about as quickly as any healing potion. Needless to say, Yasha's tub started serving double duty.

Yasha would occasionally go out on patrol, wearing a City Watch cloak and with some of her other lackeys. (Okay, lackey wasn't really a good term for it, but I didn't want to be called a friend yet, and… I just called myself a lackey… dammit…) Here I realized that she did just fine if she never opened her mouth. She would have no problem exchanging pleasantries, or helping a child find her parents, or literally chasing down a crook, but…

She was polite in saying please and thank you. She also had all the subtlety of an ox in an alchemy laboratory. She could hold her tongue- sometimes- but she had trouble talking people around without making them wet themselves. It probably had to do with her size. When a nearly seven foot woman who made her swords look like daggers walks up to you, wearing armor and frowning, sane people run away.

The kids didn't, but that was because she tended to give them sweets. Sometimes bribery worked wonders.

Life almost started to seem normal. I had started to see, dimly, the shape of the relationships here. A strange family had begun to form around Yasha. She wasn't the mother; that had to be Elanee. Yasha treated her with a great deal of respect. Considering that she was a tree-worshipper, I suppose that was natural. Khelgar and Neeshka were siblings. That seemed right as well. Once you were part of this carnival, Khelgar would bully anyone who bullied you, even if he wanted to fight with you first. Neeshka was the child everyone watched out for, because you never knew where her fingers would be. She had a good heart, just needed a bit of guidance, in my opinion. Khelgar in particular seemed to feel it was his gods given duty to keep her on the straight and narrow and she rebelled. I wondered how long it would take for them to realize they really liked each other.

Grobnar was the dreamer, the tale-telling sibling that would keep up your spirits with his bizarre tales that would make everything else seem more distant, while Qara was, truly, the red haired step child. She could have had a place, but she held herself aloof, unwilling to play in our games.

Casavir was a warm presence in the room, despite his unsmiling and stoic demeanor. It was sad- I would have bet that he had a gorgeous smile. He didn't hold himself aloof as much as enjoy watching the youngsters play amongst themselves of an evening. I didn't approach him but I did enjoy watching him.

During those times, when I could forget that there were silver things out there for us to find, and that there was supposed to be some bigger threat out there than the githyanki, I started to be lulled by the warmth and familiarity of it. Yasha would come back from walking patrols and waiting on word of the silver thingies, would swap silly stories with Grobnar (and I noticed she took pains to try to get Casavir to laugh; apparently the chicken joke was one of many… ) while Khelgar and Neeshka would try to come up with more original insults. (I tried my hand at it once. I managed "Knee-biter" and "tail-breath.") Bishop as always stood in the corner while Elanee would try to add some sense to the conversations, but would often just smile and shake her head.

Once Duncan made Qara serve us supper. Messy, good times…

Then that little bit of stability was blown to hell.

* * *

I had to sit down after Nevalle had left, his words ringing in my ears.

_Murderer._

I knew Yasha had killed people. I had seen her slaughter the githyanki that had captured me efficiently and she was teaching me to do the same. It was not outside of her ability to go and kill an entire town. Hell, Bishop and Qara might go along with it for target practice.

Then my rational mind raced to catch up. For one thing, the timeline was all wrong. I would have been with her while this happened, and she certainly could not have gone off to kill Ember (Gods! No survivors?_None at all?_) surrounded by a druid, a paladin and another ranger. Not without our help, and I certainly don't recall that from amidst the muck and rain on our trip back.

I rested my head on my hands on the table, listening to the others debate our options. Nevalle had suggested Yasha go to this Knight guy and… and what. Become a Squire; that was it. Then she would have a fighting chance.

I wanted to scream and rage. I knew the people of Ember. Some were my friends. For someone to kill them, then blame _Yasha_, mother hen Yasha, it was twice as bad. To accuse someone of killing a town because they wanted to get to _her_… the gods just wanted to think of creative ways to punish anyone for being around her.

I looked up and saw that she had gone horribly pale, and completely silent.

Then a newcomer had arrived: Sand.

His words more or less went in one ear and out the other. His discussion with Yasha was across the room, and I barely noticed when another large form blocked the light from the fires.

Casavir covered one of my hands with one of his own.

"Do not fear, I believe our leader will not so easily be convicted. Justice is on her side."

Me? Afraid? Maybe a little.

"Justice didn't help Ember," I muttered, then winced when Casavir seemed to go gray. He didn't look at me when I glanced back at him. "I know you mean well, Casavir, but- I knew people there. They just wanted to live their lives."

"There are many injustices in this world that we cannot rectify," he said, heavily, but looked back over at our leader, weighing and measuring her. "Yet I have little doubt that, with our help, our leader will find those who did this. Ember will be avenged, even if the lives lost can never be replaced."

"That's the crux of the matter, isn't it? It won't do them much good now. They're _dead._"

"Yes," he murmured, and I winced. There was something dark and deep there, that I had accidentally prodded.

His hand was warm, even through his heavy gloves. He had not changed from his practice, still wearing much of his protective gear. Both of us had fallen silent, and a girlish part of me wanted to squeal. Most girls daydreamed about paladins, and I had to admit that attractive (human) male attention was not something unwanted. If it had only been at a slightly better time…

A even larger body sank down beside me. Yasha didn't look much better than I felt, in addition to looking like a blond lich.

"Sweet Mielikki," she muttered. "I- all those people…" Her shoulders wavered, before exhaling. "And now they want me to become a Squire. I don't know who I feel most sorry for…"

"The people of Ember are no longer in pain. Your torment is just beginning," Casavir said flatly, and both Yasha and I stared at him, then at each other.

Casavir had made a joke. A horribly timed, inappropriate, completely _deadpan_ joke… Hadn't he?

"I suppose not all miracles require gods," Yasha croaked, before clearing her throat noisily. "What torment?"

"They could eventually make you a Knight."

"And?" The idea seemed repugnant to me, but a lot of people wanted to become part of the nobility.

"You will be forced to learn how to dance."

Yasha's eyes were about to bug out, and I just behind her. He… he had to be joking. Really.

I think that Yasha had finally met defeat, even if she had been wanting him to try this, because she stood up slowly and backed away.

I joined her. The idea of Casavir growing a sense of humor like this, was… ah… unnerving.

* * *

_//Shandra looked around, heart first stopping then speeding up, blood roaring in her ears as she realized she was no longer with her friends. She couldn't feel Casavir's soothing aura, or see Yasha's back. It had been months since she had been completely alone, despite the years of working her farm by herself. _

_She quite preferred having company, maddening as it was. _

_Sweat popped out on her skin. She didn't know where she was, but it was dark and alien, and the paranoia that had nearly lifted ages ago had returned full force. _

"_And just when I was tiring of the Jerro blood, a new vein appears," a voice interrupted her thoughts. Shandra choked, eyes finally finding the binding circle on the floor and the demon woman standing casually inside it. Instinctively she knew that the demon woman couldn't cross that line… but that didn't mean much when dealing with someone from the Lower Planes._

"_How- how did I get here?" she asked, hands shaking as she reached for her swords. They were sheathed at her sides, and she looked around wildly, trying to find an exit in case things got ugly. _

_She tried to identify the creature before her, but her knowledge was pretty much limited to this plane of existence. She could feel the evil rolling off her, however, and she made Shandra's stomach curdle. _

_The demon woman's red eyes fluttered in amusement. "My dear, this entire Haven is tied to the Jerro blood," she answered, her tone bored. "I imagine you got here exactly the same way you entered."_

_Typical demon double-talk. It didn't help much, but as she had nothing else to go on, Shandra didn't have much choice. All she could do was hope that she could find clues for herself. Drawing herself up, Shandra tried to cover up her fear with bravado._

"_My friends, where are they?"_

"_Around, no doubt." The demon woman was all but purring, and Shandra wished she didn't suddenly feel like a plump mouse before a cat. "Probably not having as easy a time as you, I expect."_

_Shandra kept looking around, doing her best to hold on to her wits. She wasn't weak, she wasn't afraid of this place, she wasn't lying to herself, really. She just happened to have been stuck in Baator while stark naked. _

_The demon woman drew her attention back. "But let us chat for a moment, you and I. There is much that we should discuss."_

_Somehow, Shandra doubted that she would like hearing it._

To be continued.


	2. Chapter 2

**Blood's Requiem**

**Chapter Two**

Disclaimer: Neverwinter Nights 2 does not belong to me and I make no money from this work of fanfiction at all.

Pairings: None, really, mostly just Shandra admiring Casavir's behind. Perhaps some UST.

Warnings: I'm attempting slashy undertones. Hopefully they are undertones and not smacking people.

A/N: Again, character piece on Shandra with some AU about the rituals coming up.

* * *

I crouched, doing my best to hide behind one of the trees before trying to creep along the edges of Solace Glade. The Knight had left some time ago, but I was trying to make sure there would be no one else around before I made myself known. I knew very well that Yasha was supposed to be out here by herself, especially after I had left in a huff after being told I had to sit this one out.

Considering my brave words about not wanting to left behind, I had thought this was not a very good start to my future adventuring career and had decided to do something about it. So here I was, half soaked as it rained and probably starting to rust from all the metal I was wearing.

I knew that she had to have spotted me already. Yasha wasn't the most dedicated ranger, but she was good enough to know when a green farmer tried to hide while wearing armor out in a flat glade.

"Is something wrong?" she asked, actually looking concerned. Yasha had bad habit of that, and I was curious as to why. We hadn't known each other for very long, despite our roommate status, and I hadn't exactly been easy to live with. I still hadn't given up the bed.

"No, I just didn't want to leave you alone out here. I told you, I hate to be left behind, and I," I started grinning ironically. "I wanted to see if the gods would punish you more."

"I'd welcome the company," Yasha answered, and gestured to a place next to the fire for me to sit, under the meager shelter of her lean-to. "This was looking to be a cold and boring vigil. My Knight apparently thinks I should be meditating on chivalry." She was quite wet herself in the drizzle and fog, and Edare was hiding as far under the lean-to as she could fit.

I shuddered. "A death worse than fate, I would think."

We lapsed into an awkward silence, staring at the fire. I guess both of us were thinking of keeping some kind of respect for this farce, but that made the quiet all the more uncomfortable. She and I looked at each other, Yasha opening her mouth and closing it for several moments before finally finding words.

"Grayson started babbling about the gods that were prayed to, here." She looked out over the Solace Glade, into the fog clinging to it. "None of the gods I honor were on the list." Her tone was wry. "Of course, Mielikki is a goddes with better things to do than worry about chivalry."

"I had trouble understanding him… of course, it might have been the fact that he was talking out of his ass."

Yasha kept scanning the glade around us. "What he said wasn't all bad… just aimed at the wrong thing. I fight for the balance, as all rangers do, but I also fight for the people I care about." She looked flustered. "I'm not one for eloquence but people who come to me, asking for help… I can't just leave. I mean, gods, well…" She started pulling up the dead grass in front of her and swearing under her breath. "What the hell do I mean?"

She looked at me and crossed her eyes.

"You seem willing enough to fling yourself into danger," I prompted. She didn't talk much about herself. I had no idea where she was from, and the little bit about her background I knew was the word "foster father."

"I do it because… I hate to see people cry. I hate to see them sad." Yasha looked sheepish and shrugged. "When someone calls for help, to save their children or their homes- I want to help them."

"And the gold, the valor, the bards already singing about you has nothing to do with it?" I answered sarcastically.

Yasha paused before answering. "I didn't, really, care about the bards. The gold is nice, but I'm used to looking after myself in the wilds."

I eyed her.

She eyed me back. "Is something wrong? You look a little lost."

I sighed. "I really don't know anything about you, other than the fact that you seem to be in the vicinity when a lot of people _do_ get hurt, you have a foster father, and freaks like to hover around you like bees on honey. You… you look like one of the barbarians from Icewind Dale, or maybe Uthgardt, but you usually fight like a ranger. I know that you snore and talk in your sleep, usually about cheese and freshwater fish. I know that you are a passable cook and your boar has a pink ribbon tied to its tail. Other than that… nothing important."

"Edare likes pink," she informed me in a solemn voice. " And I do not snore. What would you like to know?"

I suddenly realized I had to sound like a corny village gossip. "Yes you do. Ask Elanee. Your family- who are they? You don't look much like your Uncle."

Yasha smiled at me, bemused, and I realized that she had as little idea of what to do with me as I did with her (which might explain why I still had the bed.) She began with Duncan, but went on to include her foster father, what little she knew of her mother, and slowly told me of her fears that Daeghun hated her because of what happened to Shayla.

"When I found the first shard, in the ruins, Daeghun told me that he couldn't bear to keep it close, but could not cast it away. I realized then, that he was talking about me as well. I- I wanted to make him proud of me, my whole life." She laughed, softly and ironically. "That's why I became a ranger, you know. My mother was at least part Uthgardt, and who my blood father is, I have no idea. I… I tend to have a temper problem. Daeghun took me out to the wilds to help me learn to control it."

Bits and pieces of this story were starting to come together, and while this shattered mirror wasn't giving me much yet, I felt… better. I had always been able to tell when someone was sincere or not. Yasha had hesitated, but she had told me the truth.

I knew it. And I felt that much more…

Yasha was on her feet before I was, and I scrambled up and drew my two blades. I hadn't gotten to use them yet… but Yasha's eyes were narrowed as she looked into the distance.

(Dammit, I want a Moonstone Mask. You know how useful darkvision is? Damn.)

"Looks like I was right. The gods just _love_ to mess with you."

"Oh, look, three of them." Yasha chuckled, and the three interlopers hesitated. "Shandra, would you mind going on back to the Flagon? We need to make this a fair fight."

My jaw dropped, incredulously, as did the assassins'. It was all she needed and taking her lead we both lunged in, blades striking at flesh before they could do whatever witchery they had prepared.

I hesitated after a moment, noting the wild, gleeful joy Yasha took in the fight. Recklessly she dived in, her two blades flashing and glinting with their various enchantments. Then one of them worked his way behind her- and I saw red. Some of Yasha's battle fever must have spread, because I had blocked and eviscerated the man, leaving my own self open for attack.

Several things happened then, and they left me feeling more than a little unsettled. It was the first time I had ever killed another human. I had been forced to fight off wolves on my farm, had taken the occasional shot at lizard men who had skulked about… but to kill another human and to see him _bleed_ and feel the shock of impact through my weapons and know that it could have been _me…_

I swayed, dangerously, before getting my bearings. Just as the realization of what I had done sank in, relief at my survival washed over me, and I wondered if this was how Yasha felt. She didn't really go looking for death, but I had seen her get into her share of brawls (sometimes even with Khelgar.) It had been _fun._ Fun, knowing that I had been fighting for my life and that I had survived. I didn't think I would ever enjoy the killing part, but geeze…

I started to laugh, a bit, and Yasha flashed me a toothy grin.

"Are you all right?" she asked, immediately starting to fuss over me when she saw that my knuckles were scraped and I had a bruise on my chin. I had felt neither.

"I'm great. It was actually kind of fun." Bemusedly, I recalled her chopping down the one who had come after me after I had taken the one coming after her.

I twitched, and that was when I truly felt unsettled. I had gone in there, without thinking about it. That was probably the stupidest thing I had ever done. I noticed her eying me, and I plastered on another smile.

"Dawn's coming. I should be heading back. I wouldn't want you to get in trouble with your knight," I interrupted whatever it was she was going to say, before I noticed something on one of the bodies. "Huh. Odd choice of jewelry for an assassin. Looks like a ring of spikes."

"Can I have that?" Yasha asked. She inspected it carefully, rolling it in her hands.

"Maybe thorns?"

"Or knives," she pursed her lips, before pocketing it. "Whatever it is, thank you for being here. You helped a great deal."

God, why did she have to do that? Her simple gratitude made my cheeks heat up. "Why do you always thank people?" I asked thoughtlessly.

Yasha hesitated, and ducked her head. "My father… he could never really express how he felt about people. I don't want to be like that. I want to give people the gratitude they deserve, and to let people I care about know it."

I was spared from trying to reply when Yasha suddenly waved me away, pointing for me to hide behind her small lean-to.

I did, holding my breath the whole time. Hopefully, when I next spoke to her, she would be Neverwinter's newest Squire.

* * *

The meeting at Castle Never went much as expected. I had felt like a hick just walking through Blacklake, trying not to gawk at everything, and ignoring Sand. We were going to meet Yasha there, after she was finished with her Knight.

I had the sudden mental image of Yasha having to bow and scrape and serve some knight for most of her childhood. Damn woman was polite enough, but the idea of her bowing to anyone made me itch. I just couldn't see it, especially the thought of actually seeing the top of her head. I just couldn't… I looked up.

Blinked. Speak of the baatezu…

"What the… What in the nine hells did she just do?" I asked. The unmistakably tall form was opening up a cage, letting several imps fly free. I started running, and Sand was forced to hike up his robes to follow, muttering several ugly things in Elvish.

We were early- apparently the meeting had not begun yet.

"What did you just do?" I asked, voice rising. I could hear her muttering, not looking at either me or Sand as she finished unlocking the cages. Sand sounded like he was slowly being strangled.

"Teach those damn high brow fucking nobles. Country bumpkin! Smells like peat moss! Dammit, peat moss smells better than some of those damn perfumes! Stupid lazy jackasses trying to talk to _me_ about honor and…"

I had seen Yasha in the midst of a berserker rage, but I had never seen her looking like an angry, wet cat before. Seeing the childish glee on her face as she let free the imps…

"Geeze. What the hell?"

"No one deserves to be caged," she muttered. "And damn if these monsters don't deserve it. I could hear them talking about the most pathetic, trivial _things_ and- and-"

She was close to hyperventilating, so I put my hand on her shoulder to calm her down. It worked- I felt like I was calming a horse- but the angry flush on her face faded. "Which monsters are you talking about? The nobles or the imps you just freed?" I could see that her knuckles were raw and that the stone of the walls nearby was discolored.

Yasha went still, and then gave me a crooked smile. "Both. They deserve each other. C'mon. Let's go. More hell awaits me." She gestured grandly, and I could feel Sand roll his eyes behind us.

I didn't feel so out of place, and had to stop myself from snickering at the sounds of the poor, tormented nobles.

* * *

I had to stop myself from squirming in embarrassment as I looked over Pepin Pollo's shoulder, and flushed.

I didn't know that woman in the painting. She was beautiful, earthy and real, but at the same time elevated. She was radiant.

"Are you sure you didn't paint the wrong woman by accident?" I asked, relieved at being able to move again, and still feeling ambiguous.

Yasha, on the other hand, was charmed. I had let her talk me into it, well… not really. It had been flattering to have someone call me beautiful, and having that person nearly beg to do my portrait had been a huge boost to my ego. The fact that Yasha had been so understanding and allowed me to sit for it hadn't hurt her in my eyes at all.

I had to wonder at her lack of vanity on the matter. Most women, hearing another praised for beauty, standing right next to her would have been jealous. Oh, if it had been me, I wouldn't have admitted it, but I would have been jealous all the same. Standing around Elanee made me feel plain. I knew I wasn't unattractive, even if I was a farmer.

Yasha wasn't ugly, certainly. She had a rough elegance to her, graceful as a hunting wolf. Her hair was sun lightened on top, and her face was freckled. Her nose hadn't been broken yet- or if it had, she'd had very good healers- and was straight and long, over full lips. She was, well, handsome. If she had been a foot shorter, she would have been pretty, but everything on her was to scale.

And here she was, offering to buy my painting, apparently so charmed about someone wanting to paint me that she would pay over two hundred gold over the asking price.

I had to wonder what Casavir would think of it.

Then I had to wonder what _Duncan_ would think about it.

"Listen, Yasha?" I asked, after she and Pollo shook hands and exchanged money and we headed back to the Docks. "Don't let Duncan know about this, okay? I don't want this hung up in the common room."

"If you say so. But promise me, once you find a new home, that you'll hang it there?" She giggled, and her voice took on a note of bard-like drama. "Your grandkids will want to see how you looked when you traveled with the Great Yasha Miller, Squire of Neverwinter, terror of the Docks and-"

"Woman who talks far too much," Sand interrupted. "If you two are done with your girl talk, we need to go about getting our beloved Squire here, who does not want to permanently add "Butcher of Ember" to her lengthy list of epithets, acquitted of murder. Might we get about our business of gathering evidence? Any objections? Good, I had thought not."

Yasha and I both just shrugged at each other, but the idea of my grandkids seeing that portrait made me smile. I liked it. I liked the idea of an _after_ this, where life returned to normal and that I could have my own farm again.

_After._ It had never occurred to me to think such a thing might be possible. Would I even go back to the farm? Considering this giant, crazy adventure that I was on, I didn't know. In some bard's daydream I probably could. I could win a title, wealth, go back to Highcliff a respected citizen instead of crazy stubborn Shandra, the one lone hanger on during the lizardmen's attack. I could find a good man, marry, settle down and raise young ones to pass on the Jerro name.

It was a nice daydream to lose myself in as we went back to the Docks. Imagining my future husband was a daydream I hadn't had since I was a girl when I realized that handsome princes didn't randomly appear in hay bales. (In my particular daydream, the man looked suspiciously like Casavir. What can I say? I liked the tall, brooding type.) My house and barn were magically rebuilt, and everything was the way it should be. Except that I knew in my daydream that Yasha had kicked Neverwinter into regular patrols, the githyanki wet their pants at the sight of me, great swordsman that I am, and Aunt Yasha brought my kids treats like see did for that urchin Wolf. (Wolf had never seemed very impressed with those, but then, that boy had eyes older than mine. Still, he looked relieved when Yasha was around. I would have to get that story from her someday.)

Huh. How'd she get into my daydream?

I snorted, and sighed, chalking it up to my pragmatic nature and the fact that daydreams did no chores. Daylight was a-wasting. We had to get to Port Llast, and a few other random errands, before the trial. The dreams of _later_, and a future that might never happen, would have to be put on hold.

Again.

* * *

Alaine ran to me, ignoring the rest of the ragtag crowd around and stood shivering in my arms, sniffling and sobbing.

"Shhh," I whispered. It was at times like this, that I remembered how much younger than me she was. She was a _good_ girl, had always been kind to me… "It's all right. We're going to get to the bottom of this."

"Oh, Shandra, it was _horrible,_" she choked, voice thick and harsh from weeping. "Ember- my family, everyone-" she cut off abruptly when she looked up and saw the rest of my party. Saw _Yasha,_looking at us both, with one hand out, reaching for us to try to comfort.

"_You!_ _Murderer!"_ I had never heard such naked loathing from my friend before, and Yasha looked like she had been slapped.

"No, Alaine, you're mistaken," I tried to say, but she jerked back from me like I had stabbed her. Her head shook in denial, her fists clenching and looking back at the guards for assurance.

"Alaine," Yasha snapped when the other woman was about to go into hysterics again. My friend cringed and I glared, and Yasha tried to soften her voice. Her hands were fluttering in the air, weapons sheathed, and doing her best to seem harmless. It didn't really work, but I had to give her points for effort. "Can you just tell me what it was you saw?"

I frowned, but if she was the only witness, it couldn't have been avoided. I just didn't want her to have to go through the horror of remembering all of it…

"I saw you," she said, chin and lips trembling as she tried to stand her ground against the shadow of the monster that had slain her people. I wished the real one was there. Alaine was about to break down again. "You killed them all. You laughed when you did it. _How could you?_ We had no weapons, no militia!"

"How do you know it was me?" Yasha's face was red, before Sand leaped in to start poking holes in Alaine's story. I snapped back, but…

"My dear girl, if we don't use her, our enemies certainly will," he pointed out, and I fumed. It wasn't right, after all she had been through…

"I say we use her," Yasha said, her voice flat. I swung around to look at her, appalled.

"Fine. _Fine._ Go ahead, and walk on all the normal people you are _supposed_ to be protecting. _Hero._ I guess the changed the meaning of coward," I spat, shoving Yasha with all my strength, stomping out and slamming the door of the guard station behind me. I couldn't bring myself to talk to her the rest of the day.

* * *

Anger seethed through me as I watched Yasha's back. I wished I could simply _glare_ holes into her. That she would _use_ my friend like that- that she could use _anyone _like that- I wanted to knock a few of her teeth out!

Except that she would have had me on the ground within three minutes. Not only that, if she got mad enough, she probably would have my teeth knocked down my throat.

But I had started to think she was a good person. A person who _cared,_who honestly tried to help! Damn her, damn her and-

-and-

She wasn't looking at me, like she couldn't bear it. She couldn't bring herself to look at anyone, really, and was moving purely by instinct through the crowd in front of us.

And her hands were shaking.

Not just her hands; her shoulders and chin were getting in on that act as well. No one in our crazy band was given to tears, and Yasha was hardly the type to weep. I ruled that out fairly quickly…

Her voice quivered, when we stopped at a few of the merchants' stalls, hawking their wares, and it took me a moment to realize what it was. It was so out of place that I wouldn't have thought it possible. Yasha, barbarian ranger, was _afraid._

The realization held me in place for a moment before Grobnar helpfully stumbled into my backside, jolting me forward. I nearly fell, not able to catch myself in time to prevent tripping into Yasha and sending us both stumbling into a young herbalist's stall.

It so turned out that the young herbalist, Nia, was worried about the people of Ember. No one had performed any kind of burial rites for them, and they had been left out for the wild beasts and elements. She feared that they would eventually fester into undead, left in such a fashion. The words left a catch my throat, even as Yasha offered to perform this task for her.

Sand rolled his eyes as our leader helped me up. I almost refused her hand out of spite, but took it anyways.

It was a strange little epiphany, to realize that someone who had seemed so tough had a chink in her armor. She was relying on Sand, here, because of her lack of knowledge of the court. She was a commoner, like me. I knew little of her home still, despite talking of her family, but I knew she had no nobility in her background, recent embellishments aside. This was a situation that she knew nothing about. I knew she and Khelgar got along so well was because they tended to handle things with their fists. (Yasha usually managed to intimidate her way out of things, so she was a _little_ less violent, but she couldn't negotiate anything to save her life.) Here she was an outsider, automatically at a disadvantage without connections at court and was truly afraid of being convicted.

Was she afraid for her own sake? I mulled that over, as we went about Ember, dealing with the usual distractions. (Merchants, town watch trying to kill us, liars in taverns, you know the drill…)

Then we left for Ember.

I hadn't been here since I had been kidnapped all those months ago. Then, the town had nearly been abandoned when word of raiders had come through; I had shouted for help and received none. I had been angry then, because I had been so deathly frightened. They were people I counted on as friends, some I considered almost kin. Alaine, certainly, but what could I have expected? Ember had no militia. They were a small border town dependent on trade. They had no one to call to for aid, and I was still an outsider.

It had hurt. Still did, but I understood it. They didn't deserve being wiped out just to frame one woman.

I didn't know what to expect when we approached the town borders. Even after all this time, the underlying stink of smoke and burned bodies had not completely faded. The buildings were charred husks and bodies still lay where they fell on the churned up ground. There hadn't been much rain, and the ground was still bare from horses and fire and I could just imagine the _screams. _I wanted to remember these people as they were. I wanted to imagine them going about their daily lives, remembering the sounds of chatter and commerce, so much like Port Llast behind us.

The bodies were bloated and black from being left above ground. Insects crawled over most. I could see where most had died where they stood. Some were beheaded, gathered together, and I could imagine that they were kneeling when their lives were taken. The idea of them begging, _pleading_, with someone who wore Yasha's face when she had been out there rescuing _me­-_

Survivor's guilt more than anything made me rush off to the bushes, ignoring the calls of my companions as I fell to my knees and wretched violently, bringing up my meager breakfast. I was no stranger to death, losing both my parents, but such horrible,_meaningless_ slaughter made me wanted to wail and curse the gods and tear my hair out and…

I didn't, of course. Too damn practical, and dwelling on the past got no chores done. I didn't weep, didn't shriek the way I wanted. Two figures were hovering over me, and a boar pressed against my side.

For a large hog, Edare didn't smell. She was probably one of the cleanest animals I had ever met, and the little pink bow on the end of her tail (ragged and worn, but clean as the rest of her) made me giggle. It was a hysterical giggle, but it blew off some steam.

Grobnar offered me a water bottle while Yasha helped pull me up again. I would have to return the favor someday; I was getting tired of playing damsel in distress. By all rights, it should have been Casavir doing the rescuing; he was a paladin, after all. Not that I really needed one. Never had; I just wanted him around to look at. (I giggled hysterically again at that thought. But really, having a handsome man like _that_ would inspire any girl to feats of heroism.)

I took a swill of water and spat it out, getting the wretched taste of bile out of my mouth.

"Shandra? Are you all right?" Yasha asked, a little warily. I suppose she had caught on to the fact that I wanted to knock her teeth out. Hell, I could angry with her. I was human, after all. I had a right.

And she had a right to be human as well, and make mistakes. I needed to remind her of that, eventually.

"Yeah, sorry." I didn't need to be, but it felt better to apologize for my lack of control.

"Don't worry about it. You could stay out on the outskirts. Sand and I can go through and look for evidence while I sanctify the bodies."

Gods, why did I wind up with her? She was offering me a way out when I wanted to redeem myself in her eyes. Fuck if I would sit it out. I had to do this. They were _my_ friends, not hers.

"I'm coming. There is no way I am going to be left behind!" I snapped, crossing my arms. Yasha looked at me like I had grown a second head, but nodded anyways. Sand sighed.

"Could you two stop acting like you're married before you've had the ceremony?" he said, in his usual sarcastic monotone. "There is _work_ for us to be doing. I understand this is difficult for you, Shandra, but you will be a hindrance if you continue. So, do think about it a moment."

"Give her time, Sand. This is not an easy sight for anyone." Of course Casavir would chime in _now._

I was about to growl, when Yasha patted me on the shoulder. "Don't push yourself. Please?"

I shook my head. The foolish daydreams about the future seemed so far away now, when I knew that the dream had been based on a past that no longer existed. How could I think about my future when the people here had none?

I didn't say on the outskirts, but I made sure not to pay much attention to the village itself after that. It wasn't that difficult, all I had to do was try to remember the good times. Being stuck with Alaine when the roads were washed out, the quartermaster, the few others I had known and befriended. I imagined the artisans carving the famous duskwood bows, and seeing their wares sent off to market.

The quartermaster's place was around here, somewhere. His logbook held all sorts of information. Little about the town's trade didn't make it into his meticulous records. I had teased him once on being obsessed, but that was just part of his character and his profession.

I took a deep breath; clues. We were looking for clues. I didn't want to look at the bodies, but that was something…

I took off, stepping in the direction of the quartermaster's station. No one had yet noticed that I was wandering off, too intent on sprinkling the wyrmsage on the corpses. I knew it was a necessary task, and I was glad Yasha had taken it on, but my stomach was still too weak.

The mere thought of them being killed like hogs before winter curing…

I clenched my teeth to hold my instinctive gag the thought brought. I also pushed back any other hunting metaphors or memories that might have occurred to me as I searched for a book in the dim light. I could hear voices in the background as I went on; had they found someone? No one came for me, and I didn't want to look up from my search just yet.

I wandered through the small marketplace, to where most of the shipments came in, and there, on the ground, I finally found it. It was wet, some of the pages stuck together, but the heavy cover had protected its contents. I lifted it carefully, flipping through the pages, noting that the edges were stained with smoke. Yet again, the words were clearly visible, and I flipped to the last few entries.

Nothing. For weeks, there had been nothing from Luskan itself. There was something odd about that, and I hoped that Sand would be able to make some use of it. I nearly turned to run through the village, looking for my companions.

Then I stopped, nearly tripping over yet another corpse.

Retreating, I shuddered, and headed to the well. We would probably need water as we left and they had to pass by this place on our way out. Here was a good place to wait for the others.

It didn't take them long. Simply sprinkling wyrmsage on corpses was a pretty lousy funeral, but I was more than pragmatic enough to know we didn't have the resources to bury them all properly. Very few within Neverwinter territory would feel enough pity for those of Luskan to come and help once they were already dead. The bile in my throat at the unfairness of it all rose again, and I didn't notice anyone behind me until Yasha swung herself down the rope and _into_ the well.

"What in the nine hells is she _doing?" _I heard Sand mutter, and I looked at both him, Grobnar and Casavir incredulously.

"She could just be incredibly thirsty," Grobnar added. I knew he was trying to be helpful, but clueless speculation wasn't helping. "If she didn't think the bucket had enough water, sometimes it is a good idea just to go straight to the source, you know."

We all looked at him in silence and then back down into the well. Soft voices echoed, and while it could have been a trick of sound, I could have sworn I heard two. Wait- I did hear two. One was the obvious. The other was young, a child, another survivor? I held my breath.

Several moments later, Yasha re-emerged, soaked from her waist down, with a boy child clinging monkey-like to her back.

I had heard of this boy. He was an orphan taken in by Ember years ago, and he had always been called strange. He was taking to Yasha, saying that he would come when she needed him to testify, and he thanked her.

He thanked her, and gave her the knife he said had spared his life. The remaining anger I had felt towards her fell away, and I nearly laughed when she abruptly sneezed.

"You need to dry off," I told her, and she shook her head.

"There's still more evidence that needs to be found."

I picked up the logbook. "Well, we won't have to look for much more." I handed it over to Sand for his inspection. He came up with much the same hypothesis as I: that it was highly suspicious of Luskan not to have been sending in shipments for the weeks prior to the attack. Sand then added that they had found a body that had been marked by poison.

"While I know that Neeshka wouldn't have a problem with it, most of this group is just far too honorable to use it. And this particular poison is very common to some of the less savory assassin guilds."

The idea of there being savory ones made my head hurt.

Yasha sneezed again, and I decided it was my turn to be a mother hen.

* * *

The rest of the trip gathering evidence was a whirlwind, in Duskwood, finding the transformation powder, the decision to leave the glow stone with the goblins…

"Why did you do that, anyways?" By now I should have realized Yasha didn't always hold to the same idea of 'monster' as the rest of us, but considering that she _was_ a ranger… Surely she should have felt at least some sympathy for the dryad back there. She even befriended that gross, bloated… I don't get scared easily. There were few creatures out there that gave me the wiggins. Yet giant spiders… they made my hair stand on end. Normal spiders I could handle but _giant_ ones… ugh. Just ugh.

"Do what?" she said, looking at me and completely clueless. Considering that I tended to question her every action (oh, like breaking into the Collector's mansion, I had yelled quite a lot) she didn't always know what I would find objectionable.

"Leave the glow stone with goblins. The dryad could have used it, I'm sure."

"She was guilty of the murder of a village, even if it was by proxy. She could have found another way to protect the woods." Yasha's face was implacable. Casavir hadn't commented, and I felt that there was some justice in her killing of the dryad. Still, she_was_ a ranger.

"But aren't the goblins evil?"

"I don't think that things like good, and evil, are really fixed," she said, turning thoughtful. "There are plenty of creatures that are considered evil, but when you judge by individual case, there are always exceptions. If those goblins wanted to live peacefully, who was I to say no to that? It wasn't like they had ever harmed the people of Ember. We met that silly kobold, Deekin, in Neverwinter who is an actual honest to gods merchant. Those examples might be solitary exceptions, but they show others of their kind that there _is_ another way."

"I heard that the end result of your fight with the lizard folk was a treaty," I said, tentatively. "Even after all they had done."

"They were lost and confused. If good people destroy creatures that just want to survive, and want to survive while not hurting others… that's not good. That's discouraging any good from coming out of those people. Good won't ever win if they do it entirely by hitting things." She looked down at her own weapons and shrugged, and I laughed.

"That is an interesting view." Casavir had approached us, walking together as we approached the Gates. One of his eyebrows lifted in curiosity. "Do you think that the orcs of Old Owl Well might have someday lived cooperatively with people there?"

Yasha nibbled on her bottom lip. "I dunno. The orcs there never had any interest in living peacefully. These goblins did. You can't force neutrality or peace out of people. They have to find it themselves."

I blew some hair out of my eyes. "So, is that why you keep people like Qara and Bishop around?" I noticed Casavir's attempt to keep his interest from showing. The other ranger and the paladin just rubbed each other wrong, probably because they were mirrors of each other. I had never met two people more opposite in my life.

"I didn't really invite either of them," Yasha shrugged again, hefting her weapons as we approached the city gates. "But… I don't know. Bishop is… well." She tilted her head to the side, before fixing her eyes back on the ground. "I don't like him, if that's what you mean. I don't know if I could ever redeem him, either. You can't change another person's nature. You can only change yourself. You can decide to be bitter about your life, or not. You can…" She ran her fingers through her hair. "I won't turn down his help, since he's offered it." She looked horribly annoyed, and I was reminded of her expression when she let loose a small plague of imps on Blacklake. "He's like a dog. You feed him once out of pity, and he'll follow you around until you feed him again. If you keep doing that, he wants to eat from your own plate, and then finally eat you."

"That's descriptive," I muttered. I had seen how Bishop had looked at Yasha, and I had to admit I didn't like it.

"I don't like it." Casavir stopped, echoing my thoughts in the middle of the road, and looked at both of us. "I do not like how he speaks to either of you. He is disrespectful of your skills, my lady, and he has treated Shandra like she is little more than a slattern."

Both of us looked at him, and I noted that he sounded personally offended.

"I didn't know you cared," Yasha murmured, her tone slightly, just slightly, teasing. I nearly joined her, before I noticed how deeply Casavir seemed offended. Like his liege had just been insulted by a traitor. I guess it was the paladin thing. "You don't have to worry about me, Casavir. But thank you for worrying about Shandra."

That was the oddest turn of phrase I had ever heard from anyone. I was quickly distracted from any possible offense when Yasha went on.

"Its telling that he was the first man to ever call me pretty." She seemed more than a little exasperated. "He's good at aiming for your weak spots."

"And why would that be a weak spot?" I had forgotten that Grobnar and Sand were still part of our party. "For a human, you're quite handsome. I'm sure your more than any woman could want. A man like you-"

I choked, so did Casavir, while Sand swatted at Grobnar's head. Yasha looked mortified, fighting to keep from either going berserk or maybe laughing, or perhaps even bursting into tears. She pulled her hat low on her face.

Sweet Chauntea, I couldn't have insulted her more. A creature with dark vision or heat vision would be able to hit her from two miles away.

"What did I say? I didn't know that human men could-"

"I'm a woman, Grobnar," she said, voice getting softer and softer with each word. She didn't even look particularly mannish. She was just tall, and most of her endowments (which she had. I knew she had them, as we had bathed together more than once, hers were just modest) were hidden under layers of armor. "Female."

"Oooh." Grobnar took another long look at her. "Well, that would explain why you had no whiskers. I knew that it was optional on humans, so I didn't ask. Though I won't ask about Casavir…"

Casavir looked about to choke again. Grobnar, undeterred, continued to swallow his feet, his mandolin, and just about everything else he had in his possession whole. "I've been told that the tallest humans tend to be male, so I was understandably confused. Yet you could have just told me and saved me a great deal of confusion as to why no one cared that Shandra was spending so much time in Yasha's company. I had wondered if you two were more than friends."

Now I started to laugh. The situation was clearly absurd, and Yasha was by now entirely purple, but dear _gods_ needed the laugh. Nothing could ever fix what had happened at Ember but knowing that I could laugh at something helped.

Yasha smiled at me, and for the first time, I noticed Casavir watching Yasha watch me, and the softening on his face and stance during the act.

"Grobnar, let me assure you, if you truly are confused about someone's gender, you can simply _ask_," Sand finally piped up.

"Ah, okay. What are you?"

I almost paid no attention, and I felt my heart twitch as that moment faded away. I did my best to ignore it. More than a few feelings had surged through me when I had seen that look, and I didn't want to acknowledge them right now.

I couldn't be jealous of Yasha just yet. She had no idea that Casavir thought of her as more than just a friend, or a comrade in arms. She most certainly hadn't treated him with more consideration than anyone else. She had been so busy babysitting me that I had to wonder if she ever even thought about her own future, and the possibility of an _after._ She never talked as if she did. I didn't want a rivalry to come between the fragile friendship that had grown between us.

Yasha's smile was sweet enough that I could push back my own bitterness. "I guess that was worth it, if it got you to laugh," Yasha sighed, shaking her head.

* * *

_Shandra looked at the demonness, aghast. "I don't believe you," she accused._

"_My dear, what you believe hardly matters. You reached here, didn't you?" Shandra had tried to ask some questions but they had been deflected, all of her answers being directed towards moving inside the Haven. _

"_So I can travel anywhere within this sanctuary? Even rejoin those I came with?" she knew it couldn't be that easy. There was no way. _

"_Eventually, yes._ _It may require some practice, and you may find travel here erratic- this place has many locks and seals, their power drawn from the demons and devils caged here." Her eyes narrowed and Shandra had to wonder exactly what she wanted. To sow mischief? Her master's death? Who knew? _

"_But my friends can't?" _

"_They will have a… more difficult time, yes. I think they will soon envy you when they discover the power you have here." Shandra really didn't really thinks she had any, but hells if that wasn't going to stop her from getting back to her friends. "Go on then, set your will to it, see what you are capable of." Her words were coaxing, almost friendly. "Just imagine…"_

_Light enveloped her, and Shandra realized that Hell was a slippery place. _

To be continued.


	3. Chapter 3

**Blood's Requiem **

**Chapter Three**

Disclaimer: Neverwinter Nights 2 does not belong to me and I make no money from this work of fanfiction at all. It belongs to Wizards of the Coast and Obsidian Entertainment.

Spoilers: Chapter two of NWN2.

Pairings: Attempted subtlety, but blatant Shandra admiring Casavir.

Warnings: Eventual character death, slashy undertones and UST. Torio being Torio.

Feedback: Please, with cream and sugar and cinnamon on top.

A/N: Parts in italics is the present, the first person narrative sections are Shandra's memories. This is an attempt to describe her point of view on her experiences up until her ultimate fate at the end of chapter two of the game. I hope this is making her semi-likeable, as I have gotten the impression from other fics that she wasn't all that popular. I did like her, a great deal, because she was the token 'normal' person in the story. I wanted to understand her motivations for doing what she did, beyond being neutral good.

* * *

I didn't really know what to expect when we went to Castle Never, to get this jumped up court under way. As always, the sheer size of the Castle overawed me… it was so damn huge. It was beautiful, too. The simple comfort of my rambling farm house with its well worn furniture and the town hall of Highcliff seemed horribly far away right now when faced with this monster and the elegant people who graced its halls. But I could see the occasional imp fluttering around in the background. There were squawks of anger from the nobles whenever one flew by, and from the conversations I overheard in passing, I knew that no one yet had figured out who had let the vermin free.

I had thought it was a bad idea at first but it was still sort of fun… My eyes darted about, trying to distract me from the upcoming trial. We had everything we needed, Sand had confirmed it, and all that remained was the formal part. Of course, that was the part all of us, Yasha in particular, were dreading.

Casavir and Grobnar weren't allowed into the throne room proper, so they had to find a place in the gallery. I didn't really know why I was allowed in with Sand, but I suppose it had something to do the fact that I was a kind of witness (or that Yasha was glaring at anyone who looked at me strangely.) Certainly, neither of those two had anything productive to say right then. I could imagine Grobnar calling the Wendersnaven or, gods… maybe offering his own conjectures about what really happened. I don't know which would have been worse.

Casavir had been relieved to not have to enter the court room himself. I would have to ask about it sometime, because it was obvious he had spent a lot of time in the Castle, just from the comments he made (as well as his lack of gawking). He also had such a wonderful, smooth voice, one that would probably be better received than Sand's when it came to public speaking. Gods, I could just imagine myself getting up there and _squeaking_. I was rambling. That was okay, I was trying to keep from thinking about what kind of travesty would be happening in a few minutes.

The entire thing was an elaborate production, from our positioning about the throne to making Yasha walk in bare handed and bare headed. Sand had recommended that Yasha not wear her usual armor, to make herself look less threatening. I didn't know if I agreed with that or not- largely because I didn't think it could be done- and she looked strange wearing a simple robe. It was dressy enough that the nobles wouldn't wag their tongues but so odd on her that it made my eyes cross.

I was happy to be wearing my new breastplate. It was intimidating as all nine hells, and not just to buckle on.

I didn't really listen to the first part of the speech about evidence. I was more focused on worrying about Torio and what she would do to Alaine on the stand. My friend had been through so much, and I was worried that Torio, when she was done with her, would have her killed off or otherwise hurt. Of course, if we had our way… Torio would answer for all of this. Not that it would ever make things right again.

I ignored Sand and Yasha talking about strategy, but I did catch Yasha thanking him for taking the time to defend her. It seemed to have the same effect on him that it did on most people. It was quite surprising, but once she did that, people softened towards her. I got the impression most people thought she should be brash and crude like most barbarians. Being generally polite threw people off.

Torio was standing behind her podium, provocatively slouched while watching everything with an air of studied boredom. She didn't seem worried, despite the mass of physical evidence contradicting her claims. She would probably have Alaine speak, but what else did she have up her sleeve? What could she have planning besides my friend's tears?

Then the part I had been dreading began. The part where Torio called my dear friend Alaine and made her cry, and manipulate her into accusing someone just as innocent of this madness as she. She walked in, pale and composed, refusing to look at Yasha and focused only on getting to the stand. It tore my heart to see her mustering all her courage for the wrong fight. My breathing caught, because seeing her up there and used as a _tool_ was just… unjust.

"Alaine," I breathed, biting my lip. "No…"

"Can you add something, Shandra?" Yasha asked quickly, and I nodded, resolute.

"Look, when you get the chance, ask her if I would _ever_ travel with someone who would do such a thing, and where we were at the time," I leaned over and hissed into the ranger's ear. She nodded, and I waited for my opportunity to speak.

Alaine knew me, and I needed to get her to see reason. I needed her to _understand_ what was going on… and to understand why I was sticking with this band of merry madmen. I wanted her to see them as I did, and to see_Yasha_ as I did. I needed this for myself, to justify why I was still there. Before all of these people, Alaine needed to see what I had come to believe, and maybe help me understand why I believed it myself.

Yasha didn't overreact, much. For her, at any rate. I would dearly love to know how our mother bear suddenly shifts face, suddenly turning into a rabid troll when angry, complete with fangs and claws. I _did_ dearly love watching her make that witch Torio Claven back down. Where Yasha lacked diplomacy, she made up in being able to make anyone piss in her pants.

Or clingy silks, as the case may be.

Yet she was kind to Alaine. She could have said something about a Luskan trick, tried to discredit her in some way, but instead she stayed gentle. I congratulated myself on setting a good example. Of course, considering that I still had her bed, perhaps I wasn't the example I thought I was.

"Alaine, do you know this woman here, Shandra Jerro?" She gestured towards me.

I was nearly chomping on the bit, leaning forward, trying to _will_ Alaine to simply_see_…

"Can you speak to her character? Is she a good person? A friend?"

To my relief Alaine seemed to relax, eyes fixing on me and smiling uneasily. "Yes, I know her well, as a matter of fact. She stopped in Ember during trade season, not once, but many times."

I couldn't hold myself back any longer, stepping out on to the court and grabbing the podium.

"Alaine, listen to me! Something is wrong- whoever did what they did at Ember, it wasn't who you think it was." I looked her dead in the eye, and rested my hand on Yasha's shoulder. My voice dropped softly. "I would_know_."

Alaine was one of the few people who knew of my old training, to be a cleric. She knew that I had returned to my farm when my mother was ill, to nurse her. It wasn't enough, and I couldn't get any other priests to help her in time. Whatever abilities I had once had were gone, save for the ability to feel someone's intent, and sometimes, truly judge that person's heart.

"Alaine, _we_ weren't even at Ember when it happened, or anywhere near there. Are you sure you saw _us?_"

Alaine's eyes widened. She knew I rarely was physically close to anyone, let alone someone I disliked. Doubt filled her face. She looked back at Yasha, this time without terror clouding her eyes.

Torio tried to interrupt but Sand neatly cut her off. I turned my attention back to my friends.

When Yasha wasn't doing her best to scare the crap out of someone, she just gave the impression of size. Yet like most extremely tall humans (especially women, who were taught that they should be small) she held herself quietly. Oh, she wasn't exactly disciplined, but she held herself with a sort of wild stillness, like a massive cat on the verge of pouncing from a branch. The only time she sprawled out, letting the world know that she wasn't poised was when she slept. When she slept… I won't go there.

"I… I think I did." Her voice reflected her confusion, and her newfound doubt. "Or… well, someone who looked very much like the accused." Alaine tilted her head to the side, studying Yasha oddly. "You… don't _sound_ like the killer did…"

Yasha smiled at her, and Alaine was taken aback as she was dismissed. I wanted to giggle at how startled she was. Yasha's smile had that effect, being so unexpected and so wide. I watched Alaine as she was dismissed, wanting to run after her and see if she was okay. I needed to find out later how she was settling, and if she had found any semblance of her old life.

I was thrown out of my thoughts, totally and completely blindsided when I realized that Claven had called on _me._

_"What?"_

The crowd was stirred, and I looked at the Luskan Ambassador, aghast. What the hell did she expect me to say?

"Shandra, feel free to speak to Torio, if you want." I turned to Yasha and I realized that she was trying to be brave again. I could see, simply from the set of her jaw, that she had to be biting the inside of her cheek. I got the distinct impression that she was feeling protective and nervous at the same time. She didn't have to give me permission. What, did she think I was going to get up there and curse her before the gods? She knew I didn't want to be here, and I knew I didn't want to be here, and I suppose if I had ever wanted a chance to lambaste her…

"I'd rather spit on her… besides, there is _nothing_ to testify about!" With that (and a bit annoyed that she would doubt me so much) I stomped up to the witness stand. I was quite happy to make a lot of noise, jingling in my armor, and crossed my arms over my chest and tried to imitate Yasha at her scariest.

As a normal sized woman, I'm afraid I just came off as bitchy. I didn't really care.

Torio, unfortunately, was unfazed. "Come now, Shandra, don't be afraid." Her tone was coaxing, and if I didn't know what kind of viper she was, I might have actually sweetened towards her. "We are in a court of law, you may speak freely here."

"About what?" My hands went to my hips and I really _did_ think about spitting on her. But I had been drilled by Sand, earlier, that appearance was the most important part of this stupid little farce. I couldn't just give in and haul off and hit people. "These false accusations?"

"No, I am interested only in your, ah, interactions with the accused." There was something off about her then, and her eyes darted between Yasha and me. "You travel with her, do you not?"

I straightened my back. It wasn't anything I was _really_ ashamed of. "I do."

She wasn't looking at me anymore. Instead, she had focused all her attention on Sand and Yasha. "Let me ask you a question. Have you ever observed the accused causing… or near… any acts that compare to the destruction of Ember?"

What an absurd question. I blinked at her in amazement. "I don't really think-"

She turned to me, face cold, with no trace of her false compassion. "Answer the question."

"No." I clenched my fists. I had a vague idea of what she was getting at, but her focus still was on Yasha. She had found something there, and she wasn't going to let it go.

"Not even… your own home?"

How the hell had she found out about that? A resentful part of me wanted to compare that to Ember, and to wonder if Yasha was somehow cursed. But still…

"Well, yes… but that was different, there were…"

"And was your home attacked twice? And is now burned to the ground?"

I fumed, but I had promised to tell the truth. "Well, yes, but that was after-"

"Next time, when I ask you a question, I want you to answer it, Shandra, without objecting or giving me exceptions. You are safe here." Her condescending voice dripped in the still court. "You are safe here, and you need not fear the accused any more."

This wasn't just an attack on my credibility, I realized, glancing back and noticing the frozen mask on Yasha's face. This was an attack on _her_. For whatever reason, watching this was _hurting_ her, truly _hurting_her, and I didn't like it. "Because, you see, what I am most concerned about, Shandra, is what _you _think, what you _really think_ of the accused." The viper turned to the court, like she was pleading with them, not dealing with me. "We know something of her activities in Neverwinter, as well as the lands around." She returned to me and gave me a sickeningly sweet smile in warning. "So think carefully before you answer."

I sincerely hope that bitch wasn't accusing me of lying. Gods help her if she did.

"Is she someone who might do such a thing?"

"No, she is a _good_ woman, who cares about others," I blurted, turning to the court so that they could hear me better. I didn't want to see Yasha's pained expression anymore, either. "To hear her slandered like this makes me angry at the… the _injustice_ of it."

"Angry enough to attack… to kill those who stand against the accused?" Torio quickly cut in, trying to turn my words against me yet again.

"By the Gods, if you are accusing me of what happened at Ember!" I growled, hands looking for weapons that I wasn't wearing. Didn't matter. I wanted to… damn, I wanted to prove that she was right. I did want to attack someone who stood against the accused.

"I make no such accusations. But trouble does seem to follow the accused, oddly enough? Perhaps you are blinded… one can often be in shock after the destruction of one's home."

I narrowed my eyes in contempt. "I hope you get what you deserve, ambassador," I spat, before stalking back to Yasha's side. I was wrung out, limp as a doll, and I sat on the small bench we had been provided.

"Are you all right?"

I didn't answer, brushing her hand aside when she put it on my shoulder. I shouldn't have been surprised when a few moments later Torio called Yasha herself.

Did we have a chance of winning this thing?

"Sand, what happens if we lose?" I muttered, looking up at the moon-elf. He gave me a half smile in answer.

"There are a couple of options. Yasha might have preferred we take the more violent one, but I'm not going to count us out. Torio's little exercise just proved that you aren't Yasha's weak spot. Or rather, you are, but you can take care of yourself."

"What do you mean by-"

There was a general murmur as Yasha left the witness stand, and I looked up to see her return. She was mostly composed, but I noticed that her hands were clenched tight enough to draw blood.

What followed after that was… slightly reassuring. We spoke to a dwarf of the Neverwinter Night named Callum, the sweet little herbalist from Port Llast, and the boy Marcus. That child's testimony was eerie, and I never wanted to hear his opinion on my future.

Knowing my luck it would involve being knighted. Ugh. What I did not expect was to be called to the stand again.

"Sand, no!" I whispered, leaning over him. That last time had _drained_ me with the tumult of emotions, and I didn't know what would happen if I went up there again.

"Please." Yasha was looking down at me with worried green eyes. She had never pleaded with me before, and I was suddenly under the weight of Yasha being polite. On her, polite meant quiet niceness that sat on your chest, heavy as a bear, until you gave in. If you didn't you felt like a monster that had kicked a puppy. Gods knew I wasn't immune.

"I… I… all right. Go on, Sand, ask your questions." It was almost embarrassing, how easily I had given in. I walked quietly to the witness stand once more.

There was a piece of me, a very small piece of me that had wondered if there wasn't the tiniest bit of truth in Torio's words. I was afraid that the only reason I was still here was because of Ember, and the fear of getting kidnapped again. Maybe I should find a place to go, to live out my life.

I don't think Yasha would have forced me to stay. She just would have been disappointed… And I would have been subject to her puppy stare, along with the knowledge that there were maniacs out there like the githyanki who would kidnap me to strip information from my mind on the whereabouts of my grandfather's Haven.

In that light, staying with a kind hearted ranger and her band of lunatics seemed like a good idea. Yet I didn't want it to be the only one.

"Shandra, you know the accused, have traveled with her for some time, have you not?"

"I have." At least this wasn't the horrible word twisting from before.

"And this crime of which she is accused? As one who knew the people of Ember, of Port Llast, do you really think her capable of such the slaughter of an entire village?"

It was, in effect, the same question that Torio had asked me without the bitchiness.

"No," I murmured, and found myself smiling, and doing my best to make it sound like the most absurd thought in the cosmos. "Not at all. Look… Don't get me wrong. Trouble seems to come at her heels. But it's how she deals with these troubles that make me say no. She… well, she keeps trying to make things right, even when things are at their worst." I did my best to find the eyes of the court, of anyone who would look at me… and not look back at Yasha. I didn't want to see her face right then.

"And it's really hard not to admire that, and stick with it, no matter what."

Was that my answer? All of it was true. I looked back to find Yasha looking at me… and smiling, sweetly. Something that had been trembling in my gut eased, and I knew that everything would turn out all right.

I glanced around the court again, and noticed that some of the witnesses were watching at the gate. I found Alaine's curious gaze. She looked worried as well, and confused, and maybe even slightly hurt. I didn't know what had hurt her- my testimony, the possibility that she had just been used as a pawn to implicate an innocent woman, fear that the guilty party was going free- but I knew I would need to find her when this mess was over.

I kept looking at the crowd, but turned my head quickly when Nasher announced that he had made his decision.

The verdict was spoken against Luskan, and Yasha literally did go weak in the knees, sitting down hard on the bench. I saw the blood seem to rush back to her face, which had been unnaturally pale since the trial began.

"And hopefully we can go after the people who really _did_ this…" I heard her start to say, when Torio took her chance to address the court.

Her appeal to trial by combat seemed laughable, until Judge Oleff confirmed it.

"Gods, I didn't know she knew about that," Sand muttered, and Yasha looked about to laugh. I think she might have preferred a simple fight to this mad scramble to collect evidence…

"But we proved that she was innocent. We proved it to everyone," I said quietly, putting my hand on Yasha's arm. "No one will ever doubt you again."

She looked over at me, and I realized what I had said.

"Including you?"

I opened my mouth to respond… when a walking mountain offered to 'champion' for Ember.

I remembered Marcus' description of the man who had actually committed the murders. Those words echoed vaguely in the back of my mind, as well as the astonishing realization that humans came in sizes larger than the woman beside me. There was something strangely alike about them.

I couldn't tell if it was just how they moved, a particular burr in their speech, or even an odor. For whatever reason, they seemed to be alike.

Yasha, for her part, was tilting her head to the side- and I saw the moment that recognition spilled across her face. Her lips moved as she mouthed a name and any sound she made was drowned out by the cry that they would meet on the morrow. We stood to leave, and Nasher told Yasha to go for the Rite of Tyr in the merchant quarter.

The doubt that had been plaguing my friend left her as we walked out. We were joined by our other companions, not just Grobnar and Casavir. All of them had been watching in the gallery. None of them seemed any happier with what had occurred.

No one wanted to be the first to bring up the fact that… oh… this man was bigger than our leader. That he had several years experience on her and, unspoken, was the probability that this was the man who had slain the entire village of Ember. Her eyes were focused inwards as we walked through the Blacklake district, ignoring the calls of laughing imps and angry merchants. I didn't know if I should interrupt her and point out the ugly reality or let her keep on thinking. She tended to be contemplative, which seemed to be a ranger trait, but I had rarely seen her so deep in thought that she nearly tripped over people.

Our entire party had been at the trial in some form or another. I hadn't realized that Casavir and Grobnar must have sent for the others, and we all gathered around Yasha as she marched resolutely to the Church of Tyr. We were a solemn little parade, and I could hear the gossips whispering the verdict and the conclusion of the trial around us.

No words were spoken, but I did notice that Yasha had started rearranging her weapons. She was taking special care, and I couldn't fault her for that.

Gods. He was so much bigger than her…

"I wouldn't fear," Casavir said lowly into my ear as we entered the church yard. "She may chose a champion, if she so desires."

I exhaled, and realized I had been holding my breath. Perhaps someone else might go out there to fight. Maybe I didn't have to worry about burying one of my new friends just yet.

* * *

I… I had been kicked out.

I stood outside the Temple, muttering to myself as I realized that I couldn't be in there with my friend as she did whatever the hell they did during a Rite of Tyr. I had to wonder what that really entailed, because I had gone in for training under Chauntea. She was a Greater Goddess herself, but I couldn't imagine one of those solemn men in there praying for a good harvest.

I fidgeted, and squirmed, wondering if I should go in. I heard Khelgar's tirade as it shook the building. As far as tirades go, it was a good one, and his revelation at the end, that he was angry about all of this not being just, struck a cord in me.

None of this had been just, from the beginning. There were times when I wondered why a god of justice existed at all, but I suppose that was why people needed one. People needed hope and something to believe in, and when life was unfair, who else would you need to call on? Someone had to arbitrate, or else everyone could call it justice when they were angry about a cart hitting their cat.

Or… I don't know. With a heavy heart, I thought about Alaine. I hadn't seen her since the trial, and since I obviously couldn't stand here and fret the rest of the night, I should do something productive, like check on my dear friend. Gods, I hoped she was all right. I hoped that she would forgive me. With that in mind, I straightened my shoulders and set off.

It took some walking back and forth between the two districts, and an hour or two, but I eventually managed to track her down. The Temple of Tyr had actually given her room and board, as she was aiding in a criminal investigation. The lodging for witnesses wasn't even too far away. I felt a little stupid, because it should have occurred to me to ask while I was at the temple, but, oh, arrgh! I was worried, okay? I had an excuse for not thinking clearly.

I wasn't so distracted that I hadn't noticed that I had acquired a large, armored shadow. Not quite as large as the one gracing the nave of the Temple at that moment, and certainly not as quiet. I had a feeling that Casavir also knew that I knew he was there, but tried to stay unobtrusive anyways.

I didn't really mind. The merchant quarter certainly wasn't as rough as the docks, but I did want someone to help bail me out if I got in trouble with some of the local nobility by chance, or even some of the wealthier merchants. A few quiet inquiries put me in a wing, to a room, and there she was.

Alaine did look the worse for wear, her face stained from the tears she had shed while on the stand, and her bottom lip was worried red and raw. She didn't notice I was there at first, slowly and mechanically packing her things, but when she did, she jumped about two feet in the air.

"Are you all right?"

"Sh-Shandra?" she asked, blinking and then rushing forward to embrace me like she had at the guard post. I had the feeling she didn't quite believe I was real.

"I'm sorry, Shandra. I tried to get the village to go after you when the githyanki attacked, but-"

"Shhh, shhhh," I soothed, patting her hair and back. I could only imagine what she had been through, having her entire world wiped out in one night. I had lost my family years ago, and had accepted my lot to be alone. Ember had been a vital, thriving town, even if it was small. Alaine's family had lived there for generations. She had younger siblings killed that night. Her parents, everyone…

I swallowed some of my own bitter tears.

I could feel her tears on my neck, running under my armor. I probably should have changed before coming but there really hadn't been time. Alaine didn't really seem to care, clinging to my metal clad shoulder like it was cloth.

"Gods, Shandra… are you sure she didn't do it? That she couldn't have?"

"She _wouldn't_ have," I reassured her. "She went in, and saved me from the Githyanki. Would someone who would wipe out an entire village do that, and then offer to take me in? With my mouth?" I laughed, a bit weakly. "I said at the trial that trouble follows her, and by the _gods_ it does. Being around her is like having some spell that warps chance cast on you. But… but I've seen her take care of people, Alaine. I've seen her do her best. I've also seen her falter like anyone else. She offered to help with the wyrmsage, when no one else would. There was no reason for her to do that other than to be kind. She taught me to fight, when she could have just left me behind at her uncle's tavern, or be a damsel in distress. Her friends, well, most of them are decent. They are crazy as she is, but they follow her because she honestly cares about their welfare."

Alaine's tears had stopped, and I could feel her breathing. She had gone limp, and I could tell she just wanted contact while she mourned.

"So… do you really believe that the reason I alone survived, was so that there would be a witness to who would tell the tale _they_ planted?"

Her words were bitter, so bitter. I don't know which was worse, knowing that your entire world was destroyed out of one woman's blood thirst, or knowing that your entire village had been razed to frame an innocent woman who had rescued one of your dearest friends? I couldn't know.

"Yes," I breathed, slowly, almost silent. It was hard to say, because I think Alaine had truly wished Yasha to be that monster. It was so nice to have an easy target. "She saved my life. She's done it more than once."

I could hear a heavy footfall in the hallway, and guessed who it might be. Casavir, polite as always, was gently interrupting us without saying a word.

Alaine heard him as well, but she didn't let go immediately. "Do you know who did it?"

"We think it was possibly Torio, and that man who offered to fight for her. We don't know why yet."

"Do you think… after all of this… that your friend would punish those murderers?"

Her voice broke and my heart broke with it.

"If she survives, I'm sure."

Alaine pulled away from me, and dashed the tears from her eyes. She looked fierce. "Shandra, if you are my friend, promise me this. Promise me that the guilty people here will _not_ get away. Ember cannot be forgotten."

"I promise," I whispered, heart in my throat.

The question then was how. I decided to leave, walking blindly past Casavir, who looked at me curiously as I went by. He quickly caught up. It didn't take him long, because I had paused in the door of the dormitory.

"Do you think she can do it?" I blurted. That Lorne fellow was so much _bigger_ than she was.

"I don't know." He his expression was stoic, and I stopped to wonder if he was going to make any awkward confessions tonight. I looked at him critically and, carefully, decided he wouldn't. Whatever it was he felt for her, it hadn't ripened into much more than hero worship just yet.

"I planned to speak to her later this evening, when it is allowed during the Rite. I had seen you leave before then and thought it best to give you an escort." He spoke so stiffly I wondered if he even starched his armor, or just his loin cloth.

"That was sweet of you," I smiled, and he almost-smiled back. I didn't expect much more, so I was content.

"I plan to offer to be her champion. I am… not unfamiliar with knightly combat." I wanted to pry, but I think if I had tried, his lips would have shut up tighter than a clam. "And I know what is expected. If I fall, the loss will be lighter."

Woah, talk about someone with a desire for martyrdom. "And you don't think we wouldn't miss you?" I said, reaching up to poke him in the shoulder. It didn't have same effect as it would have if he was unarmored, but hell if I was going to get away with saying that. "Yasha would miss you, you noble flunky. So would I."

He lifted an eyebrow, and I think that the pains Yasha had gone to bring out a sense of humor in him was starting to show. "Noble flunky? That is a new one… Usually I have been called 'Sir Stick Up My Backside' or sometimes…" he trailed off, and I realized this had touched upon some painful memories.

We all had them. It was strange to think that we all had histories before joining in this crazy escapade, despite the obvious fact that it was true. I hadn't been here for more than a few months, surely… I tried to add up the tendays, and I found that I couldn't quite do the math. Even now, my memories of a life before my barn and home had been destroyed were growing dim. The anger I had felt at their loss was but a dull ache, and there were many days when I was happy to practice selective amnesia.

I think Casavir was a true example of that. Sand, after what I had heard during the trial was true, was probably much the same. I didn't know much about the others… but it put another perspective on why they were here.

Yasha did care about us, but most importantly, whatever had happened in the past didn't matter to her. If it came up, it came up, but she made it obvious that she cared about us as we were now, not who we were… Odd thought. I knew of some of the troubles she had with Neeshka, but she had backed her up despite that. The same went for Elanee and her problems. She was helping Khelgar become a monk, despite the obvious… weirdness, and she rarely asked uncomfortable questions. I think she even encouraged Grobnar to keep looking for the Wendersnaven. She had even managed to not kill Bishop.

And in return… We all stayed. Was that it? A friend, and a shelter from the storm?

Casavir wasn't looking at me, and I took his arm to lead him away from the temple. He didn't protest, but his eyes widened at the casual contact. None of us were terribly touchy feely (except for Grobnar. But Grobnar was Grobnar and no one really questioned it) and this was… bold, especially from me.

"Do you know of a good bar in this district?" I asked, trying to take his mind off those grim thoughts.

"There are a few. Most of the inexpensive ones are in the docks. The best known here is the Moonstone Mask."

Even I had heard about the Mask, whenever I made the merchant run. It was usually reserved for those who made the most money and it was considered a treat to go there. That, or you needed privacy for your dealings. The old reputation sounded almost like fun (because, well, buying company wasn't a bad thing… necessarily. I didn't think I would ever do it myself because the idea of bought affection never sat well with me, but if you had to go where your talents lie…) but it had changed considerably over the years.

"Where would you…" We had started to circle around the district, and I noticed that the Mask was straight ahead. I tugged him towards it.

It was getting late, and I had to wonder if even the Moonstone Mask would still be open. What I didn't expect was for Casavir to balk. Maybe I should have, as he _is_ a paladin, but… We weren't going for the special favors, just a drink.

A particularly beautiful woman stood before the door, talking to a well dressed gentleman before he kissed her cheek and turned away. Her face had been friendly, and she certainly did not exude the kind of cold, cruel attractiveness of Torio, but the kindness faded as soon as the man was gone. Her disinterested eyes glanced across the street, before doing a double take, almost surprised as she viewed us there.

No, not us. Him. I was probably invisible to her as the woman saw the tarnished paladin, and their gazes locked for an eternal moment. So much passed there, but on the woman's part, there was more amusement than regret.

Casavir, on the other hand…

Gods, it was mistake to bring him out here. Something was eating him up inside, and getting him _back_ to the temple seemed like a good idea. Losing himself in a noble self-sacrifice seemed preferable to whatever this was, and I hated seeing him so vulnerable.

"Come on," I murmured, and tugged him away. He didn't hesitate this time, and I sighed loudly. Stupid, good intentions had this awful habit of making things worse… I was hardly a priest, but… hell, I wanted to help.

"Do you… want to talk about it?"

"It is not something I wish to discuss," he said softly.

I tried to change the subject, again. Maybe this time I wouldn't bruise his feelings.

"Where did you come from, anyways? You sound like you come from Neverwinter, but I heard you mention something about Old Owl Well."

"I am from Neverwinter, yes," the man replied, as we continued to walk. At this point I really didn't know if we were heading back to the temple. We just needed to waste time. "I trained here. Here is where I joined my order. My family was… lost, during the plague, some years back, if you were going to ask about that."

"And Old Owl Well?" I prompted, hoping to keep him talking. It was nice that he was opening up, if only a little, if only to distract himself from the pain.

"I went there, because I felt my sword arm could make a difference. I had been there for some months, fighting the orcs."

"You went with Callum?" I asked, trying to piece together the information I had.

"No," Casavir murmured. "I was harrying the orcs with a force of fighters native to the Well. That was where I met our leader. She had been sent to escort the Waterdeep Emissary to Neverwinter hearing that he had been kidnapped. I had been about to walk into an ambush, when our leader went in and wiped out most of the orcs before me."

He let out a sound that could have been a snort… but I suspected it was a laugh.

"And? What happened?" I wanted to hear this.

"You know that our leader tends to, ah, lose her temper when she fights. She is very kind when she keeps a cool head, but when she turns herself loose, you usually have to wait until she winds down to get sense from her. Needless to say… she didn't notice my soldiers, or myself, at first."

"She _didn't._" I couldn't imagine what Casavir was doing here, if she had actually_attacked them_.

"She did." His lips twitched, suspiciously. "The others noticed and backed off… but she nearly split my shield in two. She was mortified afterwards, of course, and offered to replace it…" His eyes were very nearly twinkling in amusement.

"At least no one was killed," I managed to say, even if it was strangled. Laughter started to well up, as we began exchanging stories. They were usually just short, simple examples, completely innocuous. Much like I had with Yasha before falling asleep at night.

It would have been wonderful to escape her influence for once. To not have her hanging over us… but it wasn't bad. Without her there, we wouldn't have been brought together. Any of us…

There was a bell sounding the hour, and Casavir looked up. "We should return to the Temple. Our leader-"

"Her name is Yasha. You could try calling her that," I point out mildly.

Casavir was too well bred to roll his eyes, but I could tell he wanted to. "Yasha," he said, and he savored her name. "Yasha will be allowed visitors, and there are a few things I want to say."

I nodded, and we walked back. Now that we were silent, I felt… nervous. The reality of what we were doing rolled over me and I hummed with nerves. I knew what Casavir planned, and… damn it… I didn't say anything more as we entered. I noticed that Yasha wasn't immediately visible, and I guessed that she was probably off in a separate room.

Recognition colored the faces of Oleff and Hlam as we entered, and I worried my bottom lip. If Casavir was going to go through with this insane plan…

"I guess you want to talk to her privately, huh?" I blurted, almost too loudly for this sacred space. It was unnerving, being in _any_ temple where a truly holy rite was occurring, because I had been trained enough to be sensitive to the presence of the divine. It bathed the temple that night.

"That was my wish, yes."

I sighed, before standing up on my toes and giving him a quick peck on the cheek and retreating to another part of the temple before he could respond. I didn't want to watch him moon over her, but I wanted to hear her reaction to his offer.

I didn't know which scared me more. I liked them both; I was starting to care for everyone in this group but those two were the ones I was closest to. I tried to ask myself if there were any other reasons… Was it childish infatuation with a holy warrior and gratitude to my friend?

Come to think about it… how old was Yasha? Casavir had to be in his early thirties. He was too old for her.

"Forgive me, I did not mean to disturb the rites," I heard his deep voice echo in the vaulted room. It was only slightly muffled as I sat on the other side of the door. Yasha's voice didn't carry as well, so I had to strain to hear her.

"You aren't disturbing me."

Was she softening up towards him? I couldn't tell from just one sentence. Should I start being jealous? I didn't think I was that petty.

"I came because I was troubled, and I believed in talking to you I could find some answers. I do know something of knightly combat, more than our opponent, I believe, and I could tell you what I know. Or, if you prefer, I could act as your champion. There is no dishonor in this."

"I appreciate the offer, Casavir, but I need to do this, its important to me." Her voice was steely with its conviction. I had rarely heard her speak that way- she would usually at least listen to other people's arguments.

"Your resolve for justice is admirable."

"It's not just that. This is about family."

There was a long pause, and I guessed that Casavir had been taken aback. "You had family in Ember?"

"No- but if Lorne was the one who did the killing, it _needs_ to be me who sets this to rights." Her voice turned harsh. "He's a Harborman, like me. His little brother was my best friend, his mother practically raised me. She asked me… before I left, after the attack on West Harbor, to find out what had happened to him." Her voice became thick. "I don't know how I'll tell her this…" I hadn't ever heard, or seen, Yasha become so emotional outside of a rage. "She'll be heartbroken." She dropped to a whisper. "But I can't let anyone else kill him, either. Like I said, this isn't just revenge. This is family. And by every god you could name, if he has become a rabid dog, no one else will put him down but me."

Casavir paused. "Do you know much about knightly combat?"

"Please, tell me what you know," Yasha murmured. I could hear the weariness in her voice. It had been a long day for us all, and now she would have to go into combat without sleep. Dear Chauntea.

"Do not yield to Lorne…"

He proceeded to give her tips. Most of it was good, solid advice, but I suspected it went in one ear and out the other.

"If Lorne was a Harborman, why did he leave? It is rare that people leave the West Harbor area," Casavir finally asked, and I was glad he did. Curiosity had started to eat me alive.

"To hear Georg, and the rest of the town, tell it, it was because he lost the Harvest Cup. He had put so much importance on it; hells, all youngsters in the Mere do."

I had apparently not gotten the name of the town Yasha was from before. No one had mentioned West Harbor, but I had heard of it. Famous for its tough, resilient, extremely pig headed inhabitants… Wow, suddenly a lot of Yasha's character was explained.

There were other things said, which I couldn't make out. Finally Casavir returned… and I had to decide to either duck and hide, or walk with him back to the docks.

It was one hell of a lot safer to walk with someone rather than be by myself, new swords or no. So, I stayed, not sure what to say to him. I had just kissed him, after all.

He didn't look very perturbed when he saw me, just disappointed. I guess he really had wanted to act as her champion. He was also missing the green cloak he had been wearing since we had met.

"So, she told you no, huh?" I was developing a foot in mouth complex. Yasha was unfortunately rubbing off on me. "I didn't know she came from a Mere village… must have been a tough childhood."

Casavir shook his head. I think he was amused. "Indeed… Khelgar mentioned it. Elanee is from the Mere as well. It shows in their character- and they are of a type with the people of Old Owl Well: tough, capable, and opinionated."

"There's an understatement."

I didn't take his arm again. My courage had left me, but we walked side by side, and it was a comfort not to be alone in the foggy night. We weren't bothered as we made our way back to the Sunken Flagon. The doors were open, but there was none of the usual tavern cheer that usually permeated the place. Instead, gloom hung over everyone's heads. Even Grobnar seemed subdued.

Suddenly it struck me, as began unbuckling my armor and heading up to my room; Yasha wasn't there. Edare was back wherever she went when she wasn't summoned. Our bedroom, which barely seemed big enough for the two of us, was far too empty. Yasha… might not be coming back at all. She had forfeited her right to a champion, and she would be fighting out there by herself.

Oh gods.

"She couldn't possibly…" It truly sunk in, and I realized I hadn't taken a chance to say goodbye to her tonight. The air caught in my chest, and I got up to pace. "She couldn't possibly! There's no way! She's going to wind up _dead_ and I won't even get to yell at her about it! Damn!"

I didn't get much sleep that night.

But I didn't cry.

* * *

It was a fine day for an execution. The sun was piercingly bright in the cloudless sky, and I wanted to shoot the birds for their cheerful song.

Everyone was there. Our friends were in the stands, the Captain that Yasha reported to in the Watch, lots of blood thirsty spectators and even a few of those stupid little imps. I went to talk to Yasha before the fight, to see if I could get her to change her mind.

I found her at her particular entrance to the tourney grounds, or more appropriately, on the hill beside it. Grobnar, saying he wanted inspiration for his new song, followed along behind me as I climbed up to meet her. She was sitting on a tree stump, apparently serene and at peace with whatever was to happen, while she was buckling on her armor. I joined in, sighing loudly.

"You know, at times like this, I feel like _your_ Squire," I muttered, checking the fit. I was in a lousy mood. I hadn't realized how used to her snoring that I was, and the pure silence without it made me edgy enough to stay awake.

"I feel rather like a gnome. Which is a good thing, because I am one." Grobnar was sweet… but oh, so clueless.

I still liked him.

"You know, it's still not too late for you to pick a champion."

"Are you offering?" Yasha tilted her head to the side, lips quirking as she almost smiled.

"Hells no. I mean, it's not like I don't believe in your or anything-"

"Oh, Shandra, you changed your mind?" Grobnar, still standing there and watching, positively bounced. "After all that terrible screaming and crying in your room last night, what was it you kept saying? 'She couldn't possibly…"

"Grobnar!" I had never been so mortified in all my life. And now Yasha knew about my lack of faith. I didn't want her to know that I had questioned her, because gods knew she needed all the confidence she could muster. She_looked_ all right, but I had to wonder if she wasn't just putting on a brave face. Well, maybe she wasn't. The trial had terrified her, but fighting was something she completely understood.

"Oh, sorry, I shouldn't have said that. Sorry. Tactless… again…"

I covered my face with my hands.

"You were really worried about me?"

Oh gods why did she have to be so nice. So damn nice and naïve. I looked up at her, and this time she really did smile at me. "Well, yeah, I was. A little. But I wasn't crying. I haven't cried since I was a little girl and only when peeling onions. But gods, Yasha, he's built like a mountain- he's even taller than you! Okay…"

I took a step back and looked at her, noting the green cloak that was draped across her shoulders. It was the one that Casavir had been wearing, and I had to wonder why he had given it to her. It was a handsome cloak, to be sure, even if it was on the simple side. I realized… yeah, she was shorter than Lorne. But not by much.

"Please, think about it. If you die here, he's forever out of our reach. He'll get away with the murder of Ember."

Yasha shook her head. "This is something that I _have_ to do. Please understand."

I didn't want to. Instead, I threw my hands up in the air.

"Fine! Go head and try to move all of Faerun while you're at it!" I shouted, slapping my hands on my hips. I didn't expect her to step forward, eyes shining and with a fierce grin on her face. Her gauntleted hands clapped down on my shoulders, gripping them tightly as she brought her face close to mine.

"_Watch me_."

Somehow, this brought out inspiration in Grobnar, who found it in himself to create a little ditty for Yasha before the fight. I hoped that the little magic imparted by that spell would be enough… I also noticed her start to quaff potion after potion, tossing the bottles to the wayside, Edare was summoned, and I could see where she had several thrown goodies ready on her belt.

At least I knew the spectators wouldn't be disappointed. I just couldn't bear to watch.

Yeah, right. With that, I took off running, dashing off into the stands. My eyes were fixed on Yasha, who had pulled her cloak around herself prominently, like she wanted it to catch the eye. That made no sense at all. A cloak would get in the way of her weapons when held like that.

Lorne was booed as he made his way on to the field, and I couldn't make out the words that passed between Lord Nasher, Lorne and Yasha before the fight began.

I did notice Lorne notice Yasha's cloak. I did see the rage on his face at her lazy expression and easy words. I saw her let out a theatrical scream of rage, throwing up her hands like a berserker. Lorne did the same- only much more impressively- channeling all his rage into fuel for the fight.

He knocked her off her feet almost immediately.

"Oh no… oh gods, no…"

He heaped abuse on her, taking swings with his massive falchion, shredding the bright green cloak in its wake. In fact, most of his blows seemed to be aimed toward that. Yasha fought back, but most of her effort was put in dodging. Something was off… both were big, strong, and fast, but Yasha was letting him get hits in even as she rolled with them.

Oh gods. Oh gods no-

I surged to my feet, as she took another blow and went flying into the wall, again.

Lorne started to laugh, and kicked her in the ribs. Yasha let out another scream… which was far too dramatic. She rolled out of the way, but not before he could grab her but the front of her armor and haul her up face to face.

"Now… you tell Cormick- ARGH!"

I would have screamed, too. Yasha had growled and smashed a blast globe into his face, shards breaking into his forehead as the fire exploded on them both. He dropped her, and she landed on her feet, inhaling a healing potion as she did so.

Not taking time to wipe her mouth, I saw her throw back her head, and this time… the scream of frustration and anger nearly shook the tourney grounds.

Her ploy had worked- and with both blades, she attacked, a spinning, massive whirlwind of fury while Edare tore at the tall man from behind. Already weakened by his own rage attack, and too distracted to summon his own rage again, Lorne went down.

"Didn't you learn anything?" I thought I heard Yasha say, kneeling down to where Lorne was cringing in pain and trying to clear the blood from his eyes. She was nearly frothing at the mouth herself, chest heaving with her own battle lust, but she managed words this time. "Didn't you learn _anything_ from your fight with Cormick?"

"You think you've won?"

"I know I've won. I listened, Lorne. If you had any sense in you, you would have understood that you learn from your mistakes. Why didn't you?"

"Garius will defeat you. Go on, kill me." He dropped his falchion, showing himself helpless. "If you have the courage."

"Would you return to West Harbor?" she asked quietly, before standing. Her madness dissipated, but her rage remained. "Will you _learn_ that you don't have to be like this?"

"Are you afraid to kill another Harborman?" Lorne growled.

"You didn't hear a word I said," she hissed in disgust. "Get up, coward. Die with your blade in hand! This is better than you deserve, and you know it."

I didn't know if it was that, or something else that made Lorne get back up, but he did. He got up, and did his best to clumsily attack… before Yasha spun, first gaping open his chest, then slicing his throat.

I didn't hear Nasher's pronouncement on what would happen to the Luskan embassy. After exhausting her own rage, Yasha had fallen, and I was on my feet and running.

* * *

The Reverend Judge had been happy to provide more healing, when Elanee and Casavir exhausted their talents holding Yasha together long enough to get her to him. I followed behind, fretting and muttering to myself, then pacing when Oleff was casting his spells over her.

"Damn you," I looked at her, kneeling because she was slumped on the ground. I barely paid attention to Casavir sitting there and propping her up. It didn't really register.

"Hm. So I take it you still have no faith in me?" she asked, looking up through her lashes, and slapped her; slapped her hard, before wrapping my arms around her shoulders and hugging her fiercely. My eyes prickled.

"I guess you were really worried about me, huh?" she rasped, and I rocked back and forth, holding her for a few more minutes, just happy she was alive.

"Of course I was." I realized I was talking into her sweaty, lank hair and completely didn't care. "If you died, who would be my teacher?"

I pulled back, and winced. Yasha had given me some enchanted gauntlets, and they had left a mark on her. Her lips, which had been healing, were split again. Casavir made an annoyed sound, before Yasha shook her head and downed one more potion. She had plenty stored up, preferring to rest instead of spending resources she might need later.

"You… um, you didn't deserve that." I took off my gauntlets and began my own inspection of her wounds. Most had sealed up. "I saw you gulping potions since the fight started…"

I bit my lip. I hated apologizing. "And I'm sorry I got mad at you all those times. You were gentle with Alaine, and you avenged Ember. Thank you."

"Water under the bridge," she dismissed my worries with an almost easy wave of the hand. Unfortunately her wrist was still hanging at an awkward angle.

I felt relief wash over me, because my friend was smiling at me again. "Good. I'm glad."

"Did I move Faerun far enough for you? Or do you want it a few more feet to the left?"

I laughter bubbled up so suddenly it made me cough. "You aren't going to let me live that one down, are you?" I sat back, looking at her, before pulling back her teeth to see if she had lost any. Fortunately, they had gotten to all of her bones soon enough and her mouth was fine. I finally managed an answer.

"Yeah, you did. And I won't doubt you, ever again."

She took my hands then, covering my slightly calloused ones with hers, bruised blue-green from healing the broken fingers.

"That means a lot to me. I mean- everyone here had a choice in joining me. You really didn't… and I don't want you to stay here because you feel you have to. I don't want you to stay unless you _want_ to be here."

Feel that I had to be here? I suppose that with enough time, I could be a good enough fighter that I wouldn't _need_ the protection a group offered. But the alternative was to be alone on a burnt patch of ground in a town that really didn't care if I survived or not. The alternative was to sleep alone in my room without the comfort of song and stories or friendly cursing and insults, to stand in the shadows by myself with no friends. No handsome paladin to admire, and no greasy ranger to avoid. My life had been tough before, and this was difficult, but…

"Well, yeah. Now I do. Just don't go getting a big head about it."

"With you here?" She squeezed gently, and my gut flip-flopped. All that stress had to be getting to me. "Never. You keep me real."

I helped her stand, feeling oddly proud to finally be doing this service for her, when she had always done the same to me. I had one of her arms over my shoulders, while Casavir took the other. I didn't object, because our hands met in the middle of her back.

It didn't do much good to hold her up this way, unless we wanted her feet to drag. She managed to keep her feet under her as we shambled back to the Docks.

"Why did you give her that cloak?" I asked over her shoulder at Casavir.

"Give it? Oh- I returned it," Casavir had to raise his voice to be heard over the noise of the crowd. "It wasn't mine."

"That was my harvest cloak," Yasha broke in. "I… well, Casavir looked cold so I lent it to him. But… I figured if there was anything that could goad Lorne into a rage early… it would be that."

I blinked and looked down at the ragged remains of the cloak she wore. I had thought it was simple, but I recalled the meaning of them. The Harvest Cloak was usually reserved for those in the Mere who had somehow become the Fair Champion, and according to Yasha, what Lorne had wanted most.

"And you played opossum," I said, shaking my head. "All it did was cost you how much blood?"

"It was that or lose. I'll take victory in return for my blood any day," my friend said cheerfully. "But I owe Casavir a new cloak now." She paused. "Casavir, how many Harbormen does it take to change a candle?"

"Harbormen are too stubborn to use candles," he deadpanned, and I coughed. The din was the crowd was too much to talk over now.

We acquired quite an entourage. Our own party gathered around, forming a wall between us and the gathering crowd. Yet still, people stared. I could hear them whispering, saying Yasha's name, some of them yelling their support, others just talking. Some tried to congratulate her, and others tried to touch her like she was a talisman. I hadn't realized how well known she was throughout the city, despite jesting about bards in Solace Glade. There were songs in the background and I could hear those bards, recounting Yasha's marvelous battle, avenging the slaughter of Ember.

I thought about what I had heard from Callum, about her saving the people of Old Owl Well. I knew that she had actually brought peace with the lizard men. She had saved that young woman in the tomb, when she could have left her there to die. Perhaps she was a hero.

Huh. My question to myself, about why I stayed? I admired her, I didn't want to be alone again… and this was too much fun to miss.

People continued to call, but the rest of us had gathered some notoriety, too, and people were also calling for Grobnar to sing, for Sand to show his power, for Elanee to transform.

Someone shouted to me… I have no idea what, I just heard my name, and I looked up. I saw Alaine there, dressed in traveling clothes, looking almost like herself again.

I just about sagged in relief, and waved.

"Is that Alaine?" Yasha asked, following my gaze. I nodded.

"She's over there."

"Can I talk to her, you think? I need to see if she's all right."

I looked up at her, and smiled, shaking my head. "She doesn't need to join us, you know. She's got people in Port Llast."

"I don't offer-"

"Aye, you do, lass." Khelgar, trailing behind us, was quick to answer. "You do. I don't think you would be helping her by offering her a chance to stay on."

I found her hand, the one attached to the arm slung over my shoulders, and gave it a squeeze. "You mean well, but you can't save everyone. You can't protect all those who cry for help. You can only do your best."

"But…"

"Ember was not your fault." Casavir's quiet words seemed to loosen something in Yasha's chest, and she began to breathe a bit easier. "We stopped the githyanki attackers before, and you could not have known that someone would attack the people of Ember later. You are not a god, and it was beyond your power to save them."

"I agree," Elanee's calm voice of wisdom added. "Marcus told you that Ember could not be saved. You did not know if he was telling the truth or not, and you had more immediate concerns than staying in a village that had allowed you to be ambushed."

Yasha, being a very mature woman, stuck her tongue out at the wood elf. Elanee, well over a hundred years old, dignified and wise… did the same thing.

Everyone, even Casavir, cracked up.

To be continued.


	4. Chapter 4

**Blood's Requiem**

**Chapter Four**

Disclaimer: Neverwinter Nights 2 does not belong to me and I make no money from this work of fanfiction at all. It belongs to Obsidian Entertainment and Atari.

Pairings: None, save Shandra blatantly admiring Casavir.

Warnings: Attempted UST and slashy undertones. Eventual character death along with attempted humor and angst

A/N: I'm glad people have enjoyed this. I put a lot of work into it, and I hoped it was somewhat original.

Feedback: Please with cream and sugar and cinnamon and anything else you want on top.

* * *

A few days of peace may have been too much to ask for. I had hoped for an evening. The magical healing Yasha received wasn't the most thorough and she needed rest. We all needed drinks and food and beds. I didn't think I would sleep soundly until Yasha was back on her cot and I was in the same room again. It was amazing the things you become accustomed to.

We had a bit of time. Enough time to look through the things taken from Lorne's body, at least. There was a magical belt, some of his old effects…

"Nothing left from West Harbor," Yasha murmured as we sifted through his things. "His falchion..." She grimaced in distaste. I could feel the evil coming off it; it seemed to try to jump from Yasha's hand as she touched it. "I could take it back to Retta but I don't think I want to. She shouldn't have to remember her son like this."

"You knew him?"

"Maybe; I doubt he remembered me at all. I had been little more than a child when he left the village. It had been the year of the foul harvest- the year of the war of the King of Shadows, in fact. According to Bevil, Lorne's little brother, he had trained and trained to win the Harvest Cup, and wound up losing to Cormick. Cormick used his temper against him… It was one of those big fights in small villages that get told over and over again until you aren't sure what's true and what's not anymore." Yasha sighed. "Now… what do I tell Retta?"

"The truth is good," I answered, tilting my head. "But you don't want to hurt her feelings. But lying to her, and she finds out later… That wouldn't be very good either."

Yasha hadn't tied her shoulder length hair back yet into its normal tail. It fell across her face, and she blew it away. It promptly fell back. I tried not to snicker, before sitting up and braiding it back. All it came to was a short stub, but with no tie, it worked better than nothing.

My friend smiled, then pushed my own hair behind my ear and I shrugged. I liked it down.

Touching had become much easier lately, especially since we had decided to let bygones be bygones. We shared a small space anyways, and it seemed that much more comfortable since the trial. Granted, it had just been a few hours and a long bath later, but it seemed like a lifetime.

"I guess I need to stop putting off that trip," Yasha murmured, and I looked at her.

"Now what's wrong with you?"

"Did I tell you why I left?"

I shook my head. I had figured out that it had something to do with the silver things, but no one had ever actually said much else about it.

"The githyanki attacked my village; we're Harbormen, and we have a standing militia. We put up a fight. Still… A lot of us died." Her lips pressed together, and I could tell she still hurt over it. It seemed horribly personal to her. "Father… Daeghun, told me to take the shard they were looking for- the one in me or the one in the ruins, I don't know which- and leave for the safety of the village."

"Oh…" I cleared my throat. "Are you afraid to go back?"

"Well, the most powerful gith is gone, and I need to deliver the tithe box to Brother Merring…" She squirmed a bit, then bowed her head.

"Maybe Elanee could go? She knows the Mere as well as anyone."

"But no one in it. Gods, Shandra… I've never had to tell a mother that I killed her son before. I never had to tell someone that her son was evil, either…" As always, the thought of dealing in words left her confused.

I scooted a wine glass in her general direction. "Don't think about it. Get a good night's sleep, and we can go then. "

I didn't really think it would be that easy for us. I shouldn't have even hoped. At least we got a full rest before Wolf came in and told us about Aldanon.

* * *

"Those have to be the dumbest crooks I have _ever_ met," I declared, loudly, while aforementioned crooks fumed. Still, Yasha had given her word that they would be let go. The lives of her friends, I guessed, meant more to her than bringing a few stupid cons to justice.

I could understand that. I think Cormick would, too, once he got healed up.

When word had come in about Aldanon, I think Yasha was relieved. She knew she had to tell Lorne's mother about what happened, but she wanted to put it off. I sort of understood. I didn't know how I would handle the same thing.

Then we were running through a huge, labyrinthine house filled with books and smelled of dust and ink. I was particularly proud to be in this odd cadre, because we managed to save the lives of several innocent bystanders. It was always nice to see some good done.

Yasha did what she did best; this time it wasn't just breaking things. Seeing her sneak through the house with Neeskha made me almost wonder if she hadn't missed her calling to be a rogue. Nah… That woman was still too good at breaking things.

We found out what happened to Aldanon, after lots more breaking and saving, and some pretty unpleasant traps. With that information we went back to Castle Never…

I didn't think I would ever feel right going into that building. Part of me was still enraged over that mockery of a trial, but I was happy that it was behind us. Yasha had information on the murders, and she would probably be told to go protect the idiot with the shard.

Other than the… oh, the giant, noxious devils, the lecherous old men (and Yasha really needed to find more quality guys to hit on her) the explosions and the desperate attempt to keep all of the Graycloaks alive… well, it wasn't that bad; especially when we managed to keep them all alive. Yasha perceived that the shard had never been there- I had to give the ranger one for wisdom- but man she was angry. I couldn't blame her. If she had the shard… Perhaps…

We ran to save the girl, who was actually one of the Neverwinter Nine. Now, that was mind-blowing… That such a pretty girl was one of the Nine was unbelievable. Of course, Elanee made her look plain, and even Yasha had a nicer smile. These thoughts were beside the point… but taking a blow to the head (and the smell off that demon) made me more than a little loopy.

Then we arrived at the Moonstone Mask, and I was grateful that there was no time for fear and nostalgia from Casavir as we raced up the stairs. We had to find Melia and… and…

She was dead. We had gotten there too late, and there was a warlock there. He called two war hounds to fight us, thinking that we would be easily done in. All I saw of him, was a mass of glowing tattoos and black clothes before he vanished. It was an ugly, short fight, but we managed. Yasha turned us around and we ran, flat out ran, through the merchant quarter to Castle Never. No words were said, but I wanted to give Nasher a piece of my mind. We had been lied to, one of his soldiers was dead, and we were no closer to winning back the shard than before.

Yasha offered these grievances herself… only in a much less polite way, of course. I knew she really didn't mean to, but you just got the impression of a very grouchy manticore looking down on Nasher's seated form. I don't know if it was a good thing or not that Nasher was made of sterner stuff than most. I just knew that I wished I had the chance to do the same…

And I could have kissed her when she brought up Ember.

"No, we can't let this go. The Luskans must be punished," I protested.

"Ms. Jerro," Nasher addressed me directly, I sighed- that was what my mother was called, not me- and looked up into Nasher's weary face. I pitied him, because everyone knew that he was supposed to be a good ruler, but I guess good rulers couldn't always be good people. "Know that Ember is not forgotten, and your resolve for justice humbles me. But this is a matter far larger, and more urgent, because it deals with preserving life, not avenging the dead."

I held my tongue, listening with disgust at this new ambassador. She was bloated, she was ugly, but she was also dressed as a member of the Arcane Brotherhood, and that meant she was powerful. I had the impression of a massive spider, sitting in the middle of a web of conspiracy that somehow involved everyone out to get me.

Sydney Natale spun her tale of treachery, of rogue factions within Luskan, and the sponsor of Torio Claven about to begin a ritual to take on the power of the King of Shadows. I didn't know whether to believe it or not.

Yasha put her hand on my back, and I looked up at her. I felt so lost.

"My lord," she murmured, turning back to Nasher, and this time using her puppy eyes. "My lord, please, about Ember…"

"You are dismissed."

Yasha half-bowed, and from his glare I reckoned that Nevalle wanted to kick her for it, but she whirled dramatically and stomped out like an affronted child. I nearly joined her.

We gathered our companions, picking those Yasha thought would be useful in an assault. She and I were both warriors, and well able to absorb damage and take it. She picked Elanee, because she was made of much sturdier stuff than Sand or Qara, Grobnar because of his ability to enchant the mind, and Casavir for his ability to heal.

I think she just wanted him along. He was always a steadying presence, and I think she needed his solid calm now more than ever. Or, I could have just been talking about me. I'm not sure.

We set out from the city, to Crossroads Keep.

* * *

My first impression of the place was to wonder if Yasha had already been there. The place was a wreck. I was reminded of how Highcliff Castle looked, with no one there to rebuild it, but was also fairly obvious that this place was occupied.

My second impression was horrified disgust.

"That poor man," I murmured. The farms were fallow, but there had apparently been at least a few out here at one point. I didn't know how long the Luskan forces had been here, but it had been long enough to hurt the locals.

Several dead farmers were laid out before us, and it was telling how much I had seen that it didn't garner more than anger from me. "They just left him out here for the vultures."

"We'll see to him after this is over."

I hadn't realized I had spoken aloud until Yasha answered me, and I saw her sprinkling some of her leftover wyrmsage on the body. I blinked… and sighed softly. "Thank you. He deserves that much."

"He could have been someone from West Harbor. We weren't the best people, but we took care of our own."

As far as I understood it, we were to go in and smash things. That was something I was starting to like, and I was also starting to understand the sheer joy of venting your anger on hapless evil. I didn't think I would ever let it go as far as our leader did…

We met with the mages of the Many-Starred Cloak, and I had to wonder how our little band of crazies rated against their experience. It was just a passing thought, and I didn't really think much of their tactics. I know, personally, that simple usually works best, but their plan disappointed me. Really, we didn't need them to tell us to charge in and kill things. We would have done that anyways.

"The gates are opened! Ready?" the blond one shouted, before squawking in surprise as Yasha darted in. All of us were hard pressed to keep up with her as she charged in against the Luskans, and then through the outer walls and into the courtyard. Her cry of battle rage echoed against the stone walls, and she literally crashed straight into a knot of soldiers and began cutting them apart while we struggled to keep up.

Following her savage courage gave us all the heart to close in immediately, without giving the Luskan's the time to formulate much of a plan. Casavir and I went in together, both of us attacking the warriors that had quickly surrounded Yasha and were trying to get at her from behind. All of their attention was focused on her (and getting in some good shots- she went reeling) and not on the warriors and mages trailing through the main entrance. Keeping my eyes on Yasha's back, I cut down someone who would take a swing at it, just before Casavir bashed another who would do the same thing to me.

With the extra help, we managed… but I had to hold on to Yasha so that she wouldn't head straight into the Keep's gate after the initial fight had died down. With the bit in her teeth, she tended to fly at _anything_, not caring if it was an enchanted door or a dragon. With some well timed help from Casavir, we helped her calm down enough to talk intelligently to the mages from the Many-Starred Cloak.

First they had this wonderful plan that had us going in and smashing things, thinking this was a normal excursion from Luskan. Gods. Our bad luck piece was with us- did they really think it was be that easy?

Then they tell us to in and find an escape tunnel and loop on around and come up from behind the mages so that they could get the main force inside. Yasha nodded, before sucking on her lips and leading us out of the gates. She walked, slowly searching, and I knew that it would only be a matter of time. She was on par with Bishop, if not better, when it came to sheer survival out of doors. Instead of worrying, I took my own stock of the place again.

It would have been a good place to farm. There was a river nearby, plenty of farmland and a forest in the distance. It was along the High Road, too, and with a little maintenance and a good lord, this place could have thrived. As it was… well, obviously no one had cared long before the Luskans arrived.

I refuse to think much about the escape tunnel, once we found it. There were giant beetles,_lots_ of giant beetles, and even a few spiders. Did I mention that I don't like spiders? Especially giant ones? If I hadn't, let me say it again. They scare me to death. There were no nice and crazy ones that just wanted to talk, this time, oh no…

Ahem, let me continue. We got through the tunnel with little more incident to find Aldanon not quite sure that he had been kidnapped and having quite helpfully told our enemies exactly what they needed to know to complete the ritual. He had especially been helpful when it came to telling them that it had to be done with complete concentration. In fact, the only thing the old fart helped us with was telling us that the best way to disrupt the ritual was to go in and do what we were planning on doing anyways.

I had to admit I was looking forward to going in and kicking Black Garius' ass. Bastard had it coming. It was one fight later that we managed to get the door open for the Cloak-tower mages, and they came in like they owned the place. A little annoying, considering that we had done all the work… but being somewhat annoyed at them kept me from thinking about our insane situation. In fact, I hadn't realized how scary all this was, until a wave of dark energy vibrated the air around us, and all of us felt… horribly unnerved.

"Black Garius is here? Our chances just became slim." The elf mage was grim after we got them up to speed, and Yasha nodded, before baring her teeth.

"We're here. We have to see this out to the end, don't we?" she growled, and put her hand out to the mage. He blinked, nodded, taking her hand and laughing humorlessly.

"You're right, of course. After you?" he nodded, giving her a courtly bow. Well… it was about time that a quality man gave her a look. Of course, he was just treating her like a competent soldier, but it helped.

Yasha nodded, squaring her shoulders. We used what protective spells we could, layering them on thick, and Yasha proceeded to kick down the door. On the other side, the shadow priests weren't too impressed.

There was the clichéd bantering about power and Garius becoming something great.

"Not if I kill him first," Yasha chirped pleasantly, and the fight was joined. Shadows leapt up to meet us, and I think I might have run in fear if Casavir hadn't been right next to me. Yasha took care of the priests quickly, but their minions were harder to slay, having no bodies to pierce. Yet we prevailed.

We prevailed, barely, and this was just a skirmish.

I exhaled. In the heat of battle, it was hard to tell when you were hurt unless it was so catastrophic that you no longer had legs or arms, or a head. Yasha… she still stood tall. We were sweating, filthy, and covered in the gore of our enemies, but she was still cheerful.

"Are you crazy, or stupid?" I heard myself say before I could make myself stop. Seeing someone so cheerful on the edge of something that could make or break our fight with the King of Shadows… well, it was terrifying.

"Crazy." Yasha grinned fiercely at me, and I realized she was once more drunk on battle fever. She calmed a bit, but her smile remained. "I know that if I go down here, it will be with some of my best friends in the world." She clapped her hand on my shoulder, and I swallowed. Casavir, Elanee, and Grobnar approached, and we took a moment to rest before the final fight.

"Well, I think this is just marvelous," Grobnar added. "Here we are, about to defeat the biggest monster we have ever faced, and we almost died! What a foolish thing for us to do before getting to something so amazing? We survived, and now, we can go on to meet this Blue Garius."

There was a sudden snicker from the forces of Neverwinter… one mage, then two, began to crack up from Grobnar's speech. Others joined in, first Yasha, and then myself and Elanee, and even Casavir managed a chuckle or two. It was so infectious that we stood there, weak in the knees and wheezing until Yasha took a deep breath and once again straightened.

"It's been great. If I don't make it through this, I know that you all will take up this fight." She looked at me, and Casavir, and then where I think she thought Neverwinter was. "I know you'll finish this if I can't."

"I know that we will finish this." I didn't expect Casavir to speak, but speak he did, and this time, with a fire I had never seen in his eyes. "We will finish this because _you_ will be leading us. You have become the banner to which we rally, and the cry that will herald Garius' fall. Do not speak of your own end until we meet in the City of Judgment, my lady. Do not."

"I, for one, do not count on dying this day." I decided I should chip in my two coppers. "I plan on kicking this bastard's ass, so if we are done with the speeches, I think we have a fight ahead of us," I said decisively, more decisively than I felt. Once again, spells were cast, and I saw Yasha summon Edare as we carefully descended into what we thought might be hell.

It wasn't, quite. It was gloomy, for certain, like a laboratory from a nightmare, with strange machinery and tomes stacked against the walls, dimly lit by mage lights colored blue in their sconces.

Yasha, as always, led the way, a battering ram to clear out resistance before us. (I kind of liked that idea. Sometimes it was the best use of Yasha's thick skull.)

"Wait," I hissed, because I remembered her stepping into a few ugly traps back at Aldanon's. This time… well, traps might have been preferable. What we found was a blade golem.

I hadn't seen one of them before, though I had heard from Grobnar about the one found in at the githyanki base. He had thought it a wonder, and I had to agree that it would have been great to examine, if it wasn't barreling straight towards Yasha.

Of course, she rammed right into it, her own blades countering.

"Bring that thing down!" one of the mages yelled, and Yasha was struggling to do so. I nearly slapped myself in the head because of her carelessness, but that wouldn't have kept her from losing her own. I dived in, with Casavir behind me. Magics were flung… and the thing went down.

Yasha poked it with her toe, just to be careful.

"Think that would help you with the reconstruction, Grobnar?"

He shook his head mournfully. "No… you damaged it too much."

"Oh, sorry."

Yasha exhaled slowly, closing her eyes, and bared her teeth. I recognized the signs, that she was trying to build herself up into another rage, but it was too soon. She was fatigued from the fight with the golem. I grabbed her shoulder.

"Are you going to be all right?"

She shook me off, and glared. "I know my limits," she hissed, and turned to the door. I glared at her back, and I knew that her rage had yet to subside.

I hoped it would last long enough. Reading my weapons, I stepped up behind her. I could hear her hiss, and I added my own war cry.

The sounds helped, as Grobnar added his own touch, singing bright notes that clawed at the oppressing darkness hanging about us, and I knew Yasha was heartened by the sound. Me, I thought it was just a distraction, but it was the kind of distraction that made everything else bearable.

I have no idea what kind of obscene arcane ritual they were performing in there. I didn't really want to, because I think that knowledge would have somehow left me tainted. Whatever it was, it made the small threads of priest in me shudder and want to hide. The shadows in the room were thick, cloying as they tried to rip at the hearts of the warriors within. Yasha's rage offered her some protection from the magics, but I could already tell they were staring to wear on her.

Casavir's aura was there… and my heart clung to that nearness. I lagged back into its protection, when I should have watched Yasha from behind.

"All of you, keep your focus on the ritual! The rest of you, kill them all!"

I didn't know if I should have been grateful that Garius' attention was focused away from us. Yasha had gotten ahead of us, and I didn't have time to cry out to her to stay back within Casavir's protection.

It was her weakness, this brash rage that sent her out, as well as her strength. She met one of the Luskan Champions, blades crashing against shield, and roared her own battle cry. I ran out behind her, but not fast enough.

She took down one champion, but was not able to avoid the spells coming from one of the Arcane Brothers. As the spell struck her, I could see her go still, and when another Luskan Champion approached, her muscles trembled, and she bolted.

I could feel the edges of that spell, and the insidious fear that overtook Yasha in that moment. All I knew was rage, because- because-

No one did that to my friend. _No body._

And he was that, quite quickly. My blades skewered his innards nicely as I saw everything through a dim red haze. I was still close enough to Casavir that any such spells flung at me fell away, and I kept right on moving. I ran to my friend, trying to get her attention.

It was… I had never been so horrified, or pitying, in my life. I was on the cusp of my own berserker rage, and I wanted them to pay. This was an enemy Yasha couldn't fight and no one else could help her with, it was _fear_, and I turned to the enemies I could attack myself. I had to keep her safe long enough for her to fight the effects off, and I refused to let her down.

I ran back in, and I didn't notice when Yasha got back up to follow me. I didn't see her cut down the wizard who was about to scorch me with fire. I did know that I eviscerated one of the Luskan Champions and watched him try to hold his own guts inside. I felt a presence at my back, warm and solid, and I thought Casavir was back with me.

Yasha's face was completely white, and bug eyed, but she was there. I was so relieved I dropped my guard.

It didn't really matter.

"Fools!" Panic laced Garius' voice, and I knew that he knew something was wrong. "Keep your focus on the ritual! What- what-"

The spell was turning on them, every single one of the mages, consuming them in a wash of darkness that exploded from their very bodies.

"What have you done to me?"

I didn't know whom he spoke to, and I don't think anyone else there did, either. It wasn't important. My friend fell to her knees, still shaking. I did the same, wrapping my arms around her shoulders as her blades fell numbly from her trembling hands. I pulled her to me, despite the blood and gore on us both, one hand burying itself in her hair.

I had thought the spells effects were completely gone, but I was wrong, and I felt her shake as she continued to fight them. Around us, the surviving mages murmured, and someone uttered an incantation. Yasha's trembling eased, but she didn't move and I didn't urge her to.

"Finally," I muttered, and I felt her stir.

"Hmm?"

"I finally got to rescue you. One down… how many dozens left to go?" I asked, slightly teasing. Yasha laughed into my neck before pulling away. I stood, and this time offered my hands. Despite her heavy weight, I pulled her up.

For the first time, we stood at the same height, as equals. It was heady; I knew that I could save someone. I knew I could watch someone else's back without needing to be rescued. Yasha knew it, everyone here knew it. I had gotten the finest spoils of that battle without looting a thing.

We left that fight in a merry mood, because whatever we had done, it had bought time for us and the rest of the Sword Coast. Whatever Garius had planned, he obviously couldn't do it… on account of being dead.

The journey back was quick and painless except for a steady rain that refused to let up. We bantered, Grobnar found inspiration, we tried to shut him up and failed, and otherwise were in wonderful spirits. We had succeeded. From here… well, there was the war with the King of Shadows, but we knew we had time now.

We knew that all of us could pull our weight.

My sparring with Yasha took on a different note after that. What had once been pure instruction had become a friendly match, where the lesser skilled was rapidly catching up with the teacher. It was a brief joy, one that I savored fully.

* * *

We returned to Captain Brelaina, Yasha's commanding officer. She had some odd news for us, along with Aldanon. A woman had been found at Crossroads Keep, a prisoner beside Aldanon. She had been tortured and interrogated there, for information that was apparently importantly vital.

"There you are. I knew that you would come. Let me look upon you, _kalach-cha._"

It was the name that the githyanki had branded Yasha with, and I had heard it spoken like a curse. Yet the tone this woman used was laced with wonder; wonder, and bemusement.

"I had been told you asked for me by name?" Yasha asked, her face still hidden by the Moonstone Mask she nearly continually wore. Her posture was questioning as she approached the bars of the cell, but not wary. She was curious.

"Your name is not how I know you. It is by this title, by this _kalach-cha_ that our enemies have branded you with, that I know you."

The woman… was not a githyanki. According to Master Aldanon, she was actually a githzerai. His rather rambling explanation about stones didn't make much sense, but I'm a farmer.

"So, you're saying that she and the githyanki have the same stock, but are different breeds?" I finally interrupted, pinching the skin between my eyes.

"Well, yes, if you want to put it that way. But with the metaphor with the stone-"

"She doesn't look exactly like them. She's like someone in the past took a foundation horse and bred it specially for something. Rocks don't breed, they stay the same. So try for a better metaphor…"

"Oh, my," Aldanon looked somewhat struck. "Hm. I have little experience with husbandry, but that is a philosophical application I had not considered, perhaps I should… Where was I? Oh yes. I shall go to Crossroads Keep to finish examining the tomes there. After that, I shall have to see about this…" he puttered off, and I wanted to pull on my hair.

"Whatever. Did that 'new metaphor' help?" I asked, and Yasha nodded. So did Brelaina. "Good, because whatever this lady is, she isn't a rock."

"No, I know that I am not," she murmured, seemingly amused. She went on, saying how she knew Yasha, using language that made my head hurt even more. I knew that mystics could be quite, well, mystical, but this was a thing apart. Sheesh…

She wanted to travel with us. Yasha, being Yasha, and believing quite firmly in the idea of no one left behind and that anyone who wanted to could travel with us could, agreed to this immediately.

I could just imagine the snorting and eye-rolling going on back at the Sunken Flagon when everyone else heard about this.

Then Nevalle, Nasher's Yes-Man showed up and told us to _go back_ to the Keep. My poor tired feet wanted sleep and a soak, but Yasha and Nevalle seemed reluctant to give them quarter.

"Can we rest now?" I asked, as we left the Watch Building. Yasha didn't look all that fresh herself. I made sure to point that out.

"Nevalle made it sound pretty urgent," Yasha said doubtfully, looking over at Blacklake like he might hear us.

"Nevalle would think making Nasher a sandwich was urgent," I whined. "I want to go sleep…"

Yasha looked at me, rolled her eyes, and… and…

I had been subject to many indignities since joining this burgeoning cadre. Never before had someone just _picked me up_, thrown me over her shoulder and proceeded to carry me to the Sunken Flagon. Zhjaeve, who had said she wanted to know what we were fighting for, was probably not getting the education that she had expected.

What were even stranger were the catcalls and whistles that accompanied Yasha's little display of machismo. I could hear a number of the City Watch that passed us muttering, and I wished I knew what. I started to bat at her backside, hissing threats of soaking her blankets and pillows that night when we arrived.

"I did not know that humans possessed so many odd rituals," I heard our extra-planar visitor add, as Yasha entered. The others with us started to snicker, and I started to shout.

"It isn't! Let me down! LET ME DOWN!"

"Oh yeah, it's a bizarre ritual known as 'Getyouback'," Neeska began, trying to cover her snickers. "Humans from the Ass Harbor town practice it when people whine about being tired too often."

"West Harbor. We're located slightly north of there," Yasha corrected breathlessly, and the common room went quiet as we arrived. Apparently everyone was waiting for word of the battle. I got the feeling that the sight of me slung over Yasha's shoulder like a bag of potatoes had something to do with it, too.

"It is not a mating ritual among your kind?"

"Oh gods, you mean you can't tell the difference?"

"I had been told that the tallest of the human species were male…"

Yasha groaned, and I could hear Duncan squawking in protest in the background before Yasha managed to throw open the door to our room. I think I heard Neeshka break down and explain what was actually happening, and about my little paranoia problem. To Yasha's credit, she only banged my head into the wall once, and she kept her hands in acceptable places while I did my best to throw her off balance.

I didn't get much of a chance for retaliation before I was tossed onto my (her) bed.

"Ready to sleep now?"

I sat up, and tried to glare, before dissolving into giggles, because Yasha was mussed and red faced from carrying me along with my armor. Despite her immense strength, I knew I had to be quite a weight.

"Yeah… thanks for the ride. I needed it." Two could play at this game. I decided to make her extremely uncomfortable and batted my eyes. "I didn't expect our honeymoon to be so abrupt. When did we get married, for you to carry me across the threshold?"

Her face went redder, but she was game. "Didn't you realize that was what Garius had in mind? That ritual was a surprise wedding. That was his grand plan to bring down the city of Neverwinter, you realize. Together, no buildings would stand a chance. Your loveliness would distract the entire Neverwinter forces while everything spontaneously goes up in flames just from my general vicinity. Then, of course…" She trailed off, having lost track of where she was going.

"Of course, I would then take over and seduce the King of Shadows with my feminine wiles, which include sheep sheering and the best way to plow a field. You would join in, because we all know that this King likes having his ass beaten and has a secret fetish for… um… peat moss! That's it! He'll fall desperately in love with you for your peat moss!"

Yasha couldn't hold it together much longer… and together, we laughed, and laughed, spontaneously giggling as we tried to get to sleep.

* * *

The next day dawned clear, and we traveled back to Crossroads Keep. It hadn't been that long since we had left, but already there was a steady buzz about the place as people came and went, carrying tools and dispatches. Supplies were obviously being shipped in, and empty wagons were being taken out.

There was rubble strewn about, and half the walls were falling apart. Our brief visit had only made the damage worse. It was like putting a sign on the buildings that said 'The Harborman Was Here.' On our way, I paused to look around… I noticed that there were fresh piles of dirt with markers alongside the road. Yasha had been true to her word, and had gotten the farmers buried.

Speaking of which, she had walked away, and I jogged quickly up to catch up. "Thank you."

"For what?" Yasha blinked, probably because it wasn't all that common for me to thank her.

"You saw to those farmers."

"They could have been my friends and family. I had to do it."

"Huh. You're too nice sometimes," Neeshka murmured, behind us. "But remember your promise to build me a mausoleum, all right?"

"Of course," Yasha sighed, though she sounded confused. "Am I too nice?"

"You said I didn't owe you anything, remember? When we first met? Even though my problem became your problem, really fast?"

"Oh?" I hadn't heard this. I had heard about Leldon but this sounded like something else. Zhjaeve, behind us, seemed to perk up. Apparently, whatever else happened, she was truly curious about Yasha's character.

"Yeah, she comes up and says it isn't a fair fight and says she won't let them hurt me. I'm unarmed and these bounty hunters had it in for me. I knew that I wouldn't get a knight in shining armor, my kind don't, but-"

"But instead," and I snickered when Yasha started to squirm as we spoke, approaching the Keep. "Instead, you get an overly temperamental ranger with a guilt complex, who runs in without thinking about things and is a compulsive liar, and who does her best to do the right thing if it involves knocking heads."

"Well, she's more effective than a paladin," Neeshka added, and I chuckled. Yasha was about the color of a tomato. This was fun.

"Oh yeah… I almost forgot. She's also _great_ at massage."

"Oh, yeah," and I swear Neeshka nearly purred. "You should have told us before, Shandra. I can't believe that you didn't know about our leader's_secret_ talent."

"Well, you know Yasha, she doesn't like to share."

"I call dibs."

"She burned down my barn. She owes me first."

"I knew her first!"

"Barn _and_ house _and_ kidnapped."

"Damn. All right. I'm in line after you."

Yasha was starting to look like she was about to bolt, while Zhjaeve chuckled with the rest of us. "Truly, _kalach-cha,_ you must be a wonder for your friends to love you so."

The _kalach-cha_ took off running.

"Hey, wait!"

Yasha was half leg, which meant that not only was she taller than us, she ran faster. She made good use of it, getting to the gates of the Keep several moments ahead of us, and we were all stuck breathless and laughing. I hadn't realized how easily Yasha was embarrassed, and I knew I would use it in the future.

"There you are." And there was Mr. tall, blond and pretty as a girl with a stuck up his ass. Nevalle was gorgeous but gods… "I know that our visitor wanted to see what we are fighting for, and now she will get the chance." Somehow, I don't think a run down building was what he was talking about. Gods knew _I_ wouldn't want to fight for a place like this.

"It looks like the place is being rebuilt, and it needs it," Yasha offered, trying to sound polite. She didn't look all that comfortable yet, her face still quite red. But her eyebrows were up, and she knew something unpleasant was afoot.

"It is. It has seen better days, and it will again. This, all of it, is now yours. The people and the lands around it are now yours to do with as you see fit. You are now the Captain of this Keeps."

"Say what?"

"Nasher has given all of this to you. In the coming weeks and months as we prepare for the onslaught of the King of Shadows, this fortress will stand as a beacon against the coming darkness. How well you rebuild it, and how well you lead the people here, will determine the outcome of this war. Serve them well."

It took several moments for Nevalle's words to permeate my skull. The others in the group looked just as stunned, but I had never seen such a pole-axed looked before on Yasha's face.

"You want me to_rebuild_ this Keep?" she asked, her voice rising into a high-pitched squeak.

"Yes. I have assigned you Kana as your aide-de-camp, and Master Veedle is a master architect who will be here to assist. Captain, I leave you to your command." Having come in and wretched havoc on our lives once more, Nevalle nodded politely and bade us good day.

There was quiet as we slowly walked over the grounds, and Yasha's breathing steadily became faster and very shallow. She suddenly swallowed, looking at the mess in the courtyard, before walking over to where one of the workmen had left his tools. She picked up a hammer, and squared her shoulders.

"I… I guess I could start on the roof… I know how to hammer shingles…"

I blinked at her, not comprehending her babbling as she then put down the hammer and picked up a wheelbarrow, and started filling it with debris. Then she put it down and just stood there.

"Where the hell do I begin? I've never done stonework before and… and…"

I suddenly realized that it hadn't quite hit our fair leader yet that she was supposed to command the people here. She thought she was supposed to do the clean up work_ herself_. I guess I shouldn't be surprised. After all, Nevalle _had_ told her to rebuild it. I don't think she really considered herself our leader; she just happened to be there and we tagged along either out of boredom or friendship.

"I… I don't think he meant for you to do all the work yourself, Yasha," I said gently, trying hard not to laugh in her face. She just looked so confused. She wasn't stupid but she was even more of a country bumpkin than me. She tended to see herself as a peasant, as someone unimportant, despite her recently becoming a squire. So… I guess it made sense that she would think herself as someone doing the work.

"What do you mean?"

The shock of all of this wasn't wearing off yet.

Neeshka burst out laughing. The rest of our party had some loose ends back in Neverwinter, and were thus a few hours behind us, but it wouldn't be long before they arrived. I could just imagine the ribbing when Neeshka told them.

"She means that you're just giving orders. I guess you could help if you wanted to, but what would be the point? If you don't know anything about carpentry and stone work, you'd just be in the way. In case you weren't listening- and I could tell you stopped when he mentioned 'rebuild'- he has people here to help you. You give orders, they carry them out, got it?"

I could see that Yasha was starting to calm down as Neeshka's words got through. The wide-eyed panic subsided.

"Poor Yasha," I crooned, reaching up to pat her head. "Took one too many hits to the skull at too young an age…"

I couldn't tell if Zhjaeve was amused or not. Her veil hid most of her face, but her eyes were crinkled on the sides. I hoped that was a good sign. Then she cleared her throat.

"_Kalach-cha,_ there are many things of which we should speak. May we go where we can be alone?" she asked quietly, and suddenly my hackles went up.

"Look, I don't care what you have to say," I protested, but Yasha shook her head. She had calmed to be able to speak and I sighed. The fun drained from the air, and apparently she had read something in the githzerai that I had not.

"The walls are safe enough, we can go there," Yasha said to Zhjaeve. "We can speak there without being bothered." _Or easily overheard,_ was the unspoken ending. I flinched.

"What's so important that we can't hear it?"

"Your leader needs to know about this enemy, this King of Shadows, and she must know what steps must be taken to stop him, if it is not already too late."

All the laughter died. Yasha's eyebrows went up, and I could see something in her face that made me twitch, as she looked at Zhjaeve, The ranger's hand went to her chest, above her shard-scar, before clenching into a fist.

Ever a gentleman, Yasha quickly offered her hand to the less agile githzerai as they picked their up to the walls. I had to fight a wave of jealously that tried to rise up at the sight. It should have been me at her side, not the gith.

I didn't question the why of the jealously, but I did question Zhjaeve's intentions. What did she have to say that she couldn't say before the rest of us? It was fairly obvious that she considered Yasha, her precious '_kalach-cha_' to be the most important of us. We could still see them, but they were well out of hearing range, especially with the noise of construction in the background.

The two women looked over the lands and the Keep for a moment, before turning to each other. Yasha's face was finally composed, as she spoke to the other woman. I watched them all intently, along with the other two with me, hoping for some clue as to what was going on. Whatever Zhjaeve had to say, it wasn't terribly distressing, at least at first… until Yasha's eyes widened and her jaw clenched, and I half expected her to curse. Whatever she had heard had not made her happy, but there was determination there, and Zhjaeve nodded. Yasha nodded as well, a quick chop, and clenched her fists. Other words were spoken, and Zhjaeve gestured with her thin, mottled hands. Yasha swallowed hard and closed her eyes, swaying before leaning heavily against one of the stone walls, hands shaking briefly before she gained control of herself again.

Resignation filled every line of my friend as she returned. The rest of us were silent, watching her, none of us willing to voice our concern. I couldn't, at least, even if I suspected she had been told something horrible.

I fell into my usual place by her side. Yasha didn't say anything, not enlightening anyone to her state of mind as she wrapped herself up further in her new cloak. We walked up the slope to the Keep doors, encountering Kana and Veedle for the first time.

"Captain!"

I swear Yasha looked around for a moment, before realizing that Kana was addressing her. "Yes?"

Kana bowed, deeply, looking at Yasha with a reverence that was usual held for saints and celestials. "You have been honored greatly with this stronghold. I am Kana, and it is my _honor_ to assist you here."

Yasha looked just the tiniest bit overwhelmed again. Veedle piped up, adding his bit about rebuilding, but I'm not sure how much Yasha actually heard. Or myself, for that matter; my own worries churned in my mind as I tried to understand what had just happened. With no words actually being said about it, all the new information about the Keep pushed it to the side.

"Tell me what you want me to do, and we'll get to work on it as fast as possible."

I wasn't paying much attention, distracted by seeing the rest of our party arriving through the front gate. Neeshka was already running to greet them, and I shook my head. I had to wonder what kind of story they would get about all this. Probably about Yasha being a Captain and that she was going to try to rebuild it single handedly. Good thing we had stopped her… she might have really tried it.

Yasha cleared her throat, and offered her first orders, which were basic. I knew the wheels in her head were already turning, and she was thinking from the ground up. This place needed people, and it was her job to recruit them. They needed soldiers. She made her first orders for the repair of the Keep, and then for the blacksmith.

Her hands were shaking, but Veedle ran off with something akin to joy.

* * *

We had our first order of business; actually, our second. Yasha took us off immediately to begin recruiting- but that was after we returned to Neverwinter to finished up something quite dear to my friend's, and Khelgar's, heart.

The process by which Khelgar became a monk wasn't all that special, but Yasha was so proud of him she bought him a magic ring and they went out drinking with Prior Hlam to celebrate. Hlam was rather taken back by his new monk and the new captain both staggering around the merchant quarter, but once he had a few tankards, he loosened up and had quite a good time. What was even better was that there were no injuries besides a few broken fingers. Poor bastard should have known not to hit a dwarf on the head with just his fist…

"Its time I went home for a visit," Yasha said finally, after she had recovered from her hangover. (I'd teased her mercilessly about it.)

It had been a duty she had put off, for a lot of reasons. She wasn't looking forward to going home and telling her people the fate of their prodigal son. Lorne and Cormick had been legends in their small town, and it was a slur to them all that he had done this.

I had somehow gotten the impression that as a little girl, Yasha had once had some serious hero worship for the lost Lorne. She had mentioned a best friend who was Lorne's little brother and that she had spent a lot of time with Retta Starling, Lorne's mother. I could only guess at what she had been told about the two missing sons of West Harbor.

We were essentially going to be retracing steps, first going by boat back to Highcliff, then overland on to West Harbor. We would eventually move out to Old Owl Well, because Yasha said she could find a good recruit there. Seemed good to me, because gods know none of our small group wanted a task so serious.

I hadn't been on a boat in years, but Umberlee was in a forgiving mood those few days we were aboard ship. Yasha was all right, as a ranger she was adaptable and the crew of the _Double Eagle_ remembered her from before. Apparently her legend had preceded her from her help with the lizard folk and her sheer strength in hefting the sails.

"Sometimes I have to wonder if we're here with you at all," I said one night as we all bedded down in the small cabin.

"You didn't hear the songs being sung about you?"

"Hm?"

"There are songs about 'Khelgar the Brave' and 'Neeshka, greatest Rogue of Neverwinter' and…" I could see her choking down her mirth.

"And what do they call me?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.

"'Fair Shandra'."

I was appalled. "That's it?"

"Your beauty supposedly rallied your comrades- all male- to your rescue when you were kidnapped by foul raiders…"

"Did Grobnar have anything to do with this?"

"Maybe. Considering that he sincerely thought I was male at the time…"

"Oh _gods._ Knowing him, those songs have spread."

Yasha continued to cackle and I moaned, burying my head in my pillow as I tried to get comfortable. Considering how rumor always preceded us, along with the fact that those songs just _had_ to mention that I was still sharing space with Yasha… I could just _imagine_ our trip…

* * *

I didn't expect to start so quickly with Highcliff. We arrived just after dawn, with the warm light just beginning to lap at the shores. I strode down the gangplank, hoisting my own back pack over my shoulder and seeing if there was anyone I knew. The sailors usually cycled in and out regularly and I think I recognized the harbormaster, but I had only known him by face, not by name. Gera and Zachan's son was running about, peering under things while he and his best friend whispered conspiratorially about something only they cared about. On the upper cliffs, I could see the outlines of lizard folk, staring down at us with their usual distrust of outsiders but not attacking. I should have guessed that they would be around.

My feelings about them were mixed. Elanee had tried, once, to explain to me what the lizards had been up to, and I had tried to understand. Yet it didn't make the sting of losing my livelihood any less. I worked _hard_ during harvest season, worked hard the entire year for that my crops. I knew they had lost their own homes and were worried that the humans would try to drive them from their new one… But still…

I sighed, eying the staircase up to Highcliff village.

"Do you want to go visit your farm? See if there's anything you want?" Yasha asked, coming up from behind me.

I had spent my life in that house, tending to those fields and that barn. "How do you do it? Just… leave, everything that you've ever known? I didn't have a choice, did you?"

"Not really. The safety of my village meant more to me than that." Yasha was looking up the cliff as well. We headed out, myself in the lead as this was home territory, and Yasha following me for once. Elanee was listening to Khelgar groan and bellyache about the trip, shaking her head before offering a potion to ease his innards. "One of my best friends was dead. I rushed away… and things just started happening after that. I kept being chased, and hunted, and I, um, kept getting promoted. A choice? No… I didn't really have that."

I bit my lip as we reached the top, and I was relieved to find Highcliff intact. The lizard folk and the villagers did not interact, period, but both seemed to respect their truce. There were the usual sailors and ruffians lounging about, but nothing seemed out of the ordinary. I kept walking, noticing people I had grown up with, people who had known my parents. I saw the kids running around, playing tag.

"Well, if this isn't the beginning of a joke…"

Sailors were one of the more unpleasant things about Highcliff, and the fact that they always seemed to be spoiling for a fight. I had done my best to avoid them in the past, because I was usually alone.

Wait, I knew this one.

"What happens when a runty dwarf, a tree-worshipping elf, and a Habor…"

I crossed my arms, realizing that he hadn't seen me on Yasha's other side. I stepped out from beside her and my hands went on to my hips.

"And a what?" I growled, tossing my hair over my shoulder. I'd need to get it cut soon.

Brin had been an old friend of mine, who had gone out to sea many years ago. He made his living as a sailor, only coming to dock in order to jump on to another boat. He must have decided he wanted a few pints while getting back his land legs.

"Shandra? What are you doing in the middle of my joke?"

That name, my name, was called back and forth along the dirt street as the villagers became aware of me. They kept on calling my name, and it took me a moment to understand why. None of them recognized me.

I was in very good armor now, gleaming in odd colors from protective enchantments, and my swords were in their sheaths. My hair had grown in the time I had been away, down over my shoulders and I had yet to tie it back, most of it held in place by a head band. I knew I had changed… but now, they knew it too.

"I'm with the Harborman, the dwarf and the elf. We went into the bar, ordered a drink, and sat down, enjoyed a good meal and left without a fight. And that, Brin, is the point of the joke. No heads were broken."

Brin swallowed hard, and backed away as Yasha tilted her head to the side.

"You know this man?"

"I've not seen him in five years, give or take, but yeah… I know him." He was stinking drunk and dressed in tattered rags. I had once considered him the handsomest boy in the village, and had pined after him (in private, after my chores were done) when he had left when I was a girl. Now… compared to Casavir's poise, and Yasha's grace, and even Bishop's slimy attractiveness, he was puny. I looked down at my home town, and my mind compared it to Neverwinter, even to Crossroads Keep, and I felt strange inside.

This wasn't home anymore. Everything was smaller, dingier, and darker. I wasn't sure what I had been expecting when I returned, hadn't even really thought about it, but I knew that that there would be no one there to greet me. People knew _of_ me, but very few of the Highcliff villagers were my friends.

"Should we say our respects to the village Elder? See if he's got any work for us?" Khelgar asked, after I had been silent for several minutes.

"I think there's someone we can recruit for the Keep here. Remember Edario?" Yasha started, but I wasn't listening. I just kept looking around, wondering what had happened to place that had always been the center of my dream of an _after_. Everything that had made it home… I had now, and it traveled with me.

How much had I changed since I had been away? I felt so distant from this place now. It was poignant, because I had more of a family now, even after all the hell that had happened to me, than I had in years.

There was little craziness on our trip, but I felt amused when Gera and Zachan came to see Yasha. It just figured that she would have been out there, playing hero even before I met her.

When we left Highcliff, I wondered if I would ever see this place again. With a queer churning in my stomach, I wasn't even sure I wanted to.

* * *

"_And what is this? Step forward, little tool, and let Koraboros look upon your features."_

_The tone was meant to be fond, congenial, but it was coming from somewhere near the ceiling. The scent of brimstone hung thick on the walls, and Shandra found herself someplace else. Gathering her bearings again was not an easy task, after finding herself swept away by whatever forces ruled this place twice. The lithe, pale demon woman had been replaced instead with a huge pit fiend… she recognized him for what he was from the books she had found in her father's study. The knowledge that he was contained helped but little- what else was running around here?- but she could possibly get information… like, oh, where in the Hells she was, and where her friends could be._

"_Ah, a gift. After all this time, I am touched. Tell me, little tool, how did you get here?" _

_She had heard his name- one of his names, at least- and he was at least pretending to be polite. _

"_I- I'm not sure. A demonness told me I could travel anywhere in this place, and suddenly, I was here."_

_The pit fiend seemed terribly amused. "Blood powers this place, girl. Now… you are here of your own free will, and the balance shifts."_

_That did not sound good. Shandra stiffened, but she doubted her little swords would do much good anyhow. She swallowed hard, but there was no way in hell she was giving up. She had to get back to them again. "What balance?"_

"_This place is powered by the baatezu and tana'ri here. It is what permits you to travel as you travel as you will… and grant power to the one who commands us."_

_Her blood ran cold. Shandra had no idea who could be here that commanded demons and devils, but she really didn't want to meet him alone. "And who is that?" Whoever he was, knowing his name could only be a boon._

"_A powerful wizard, one whom your friends have hunted for some time. He has thwarted your efforts, time and again." He paused, and Shandra didn't realize that he was carefully formulating his words. "He is lord and king of this place, one forever linked to shadow. I think his name is already known to your friends, and perhaps to you as well."_

_The words 'king' and 'shadow,' linked by the mouth of a pit fiend in a place like this… It led her to the obvious conclusion. Shandra's world tried to gray out at the edges before she gripped herself tightly. "The King of Shadows is here?" she swallowed, and again pulled on her cloak of bravado. She couldn't appear weak, not when she had some power over this place and her friends were in danger. "Well, then he better be prepared for a beating." Her eyes narrowed, as she thought of what had happened in West Harbor, and Yasha's vendetta against him. "My friends have handled a lot worse."_

_Koraboros only became more amused. "My dear," he sighed. "As long as we remain in our summoning circles, the one who commands this place will rise from every defeat anew, more powerful than before." He seemed to delight in Shandra's sudden horror. "And that does not bode well for your… friends."_

_Shandra felt her own protective streak rise up, and she refused to let it end there. "The King of Shadows cannot be unbeatable." Koraboros chuckled. "There has to be some way I can reach him, or my friends."_

_Please, gods, anyone who can hear me… I can't lose them now… Her thoughts ran in circles, around and around, repeating those words over and over again._

"_The one who commands us does not entertain guests. And his control of this place surprises yours; I doubt he knows an insignificant speck such as you is even here."_

_Shandra bristled- she was not insignificant, and neither were her friends. "Then I'll get his attention… somehow." She was also aware that there were bigger things out there than she was. Like… oh, this pit fiend. _

"_Oh, you could try, but I am certain his energies will soon be consumed with murdering your friends. And after that, he will no doubt crush you beneath his heel as an afterthought."_

_Shandra saw red. After everything… there was no way she was going to let things end like this. Not like this. "He's not stopping them and he's not going to get me!"_

"_And your plan?" _

_Damn nosy pit fiend… "I'll think of something," she spat._

"_Spoken as if time will wait for you. It will not. But you will realize that soon enough."_

To be continued

A/N: Are there any other places to post NWN2 fic?


	5. Chapter 5

**Blood's Requiem**

**Chapter Five**

Disclaimer: Neverwinter Nights 2 belongs to Obsidian Entertainment and Atari, not me, and I make no money from this work of fanfiction at all.

Pairings: One-sided Shandra and Casavir, UST, and slashy undertones.

Warnings: Eventual character death, attempted humor and angst. Slight AU on the role of the Ritual of Purification and spoilers for all of chapter two.

A/N: Past the halfway point now, and I hope people will continue on to the end.

Feedback: Please. Also, could someone tell me where else I could post this fic? Also, where I could find a NWN beta?

We passed through Fort Locke on our way to West Harbor, recruiting a blacksmith, before we entered the Mere of Dead Men. I had never actually visited before, as it was one of those legendary places that sane people avoided because the beasts were tough and the people were tougher. Not to mention meat-heads so stubborn that…

At that thought, I glanced over at Yasha and noted her silence. Both she and Elanee had been quiet as we walked along the winding, barely recognizable road and moving at a somewhat halting pace. They weren't walking together, but one would suddenly spring forward eagerly while the other would lag back, looking at nothing in particular, trading off that role from time to time.

Casavir had joined us on our trip, having caught up with us at Fort Locke, and was watching their leapfrogging advance. It caused a deep crease between his eyebrows, and I had to admit I probably sported the same. It was obvious that both of them were somewhat ambiguous on this return journey. It showed in the fits and spurts they used to walk, both of them. Sometimes Yasha would be smiling at nothing in particular before her steps would suddenly fall to a crawl before she sped up again. Elanee would tilt her head, noticing something about the wilds around us, and nearly leave the trail before catching herself and returning to the path. I had to wonder what kept catching her attention.

Swamps, from what I knew, teemed with life but there was a silence that had started to overcome the Mere. I knew I should have heard more insects. I should have heard more rustling. Both of our outdoor people noticed, surely, and that had to do with their odd hesitance. Beyond my worried exchange of glances with Casavir, the journey to West Harbor went quietly and without any kind of communication. When we finally arrived, I nearly stumbled in surprise. I could have walked right on by and missed it.

Before me was a village, perhaps smaller than most and certainly much wetter. Wooden walls accounted for most of the buildings, and most of it was covered in green moss. This was one of the areas with actual firm ground, but some of it still squished underfoot as I walked. This wetness was probably why the entire place hadn't been burned down, despite the smoke damage I could clearly see. Old pain hung in the air, and on the backs of the men and women laboring to put their tiny village to rights again.

I caught a glimpse of a memorial shrine to Lathander and Chauntea on the village green.

Yet despite the pall, there was a tone of defiance that rang out with the pounding of hammers and the rasp of saws. These people weren't going to give in to the encroaching swamp, into despair or to invaders without giving hell back. Pride shone in the stubborn set of shoulders, of three young men carrying planks in front of us…

Who promptly dropped them when they saw the woman leading our band.

"Miller!"

I had nearly forgotten that people would know Yasha, despite this being her home town. Or rather, forgotten that people wouldn't treat her like the mini-legend she was becoming. These three men, in tattered shirts rolled up to reveal brawny arms and sporting low brows, looked at Yasha with contempt… and rivalry.

"Mossfield," Yasha nodded, crossing her arms, eyes narrowed and nostrils flaring.

"Come back to the old homestead, now that you're this great and glorious hero?" the eldest of the young men sneered, a breath before Yasha stepped up close and gave him a shove- sending him staggering back. I knew she could have sent him into the mud, but she looked vaguely shocked that he had moved at all.

"I don't know what horse manure you've been hearing," she began, before the second young man grabbed her ponytail to haul her back. Surprisingly, it worked.

"We've been hearing songs," one of the others said, and I had to guess they were brothers, so I dubbed him Mossfield-two. "And they've been saying some mighty… odd… things about you." He looked at her, and then at the rest of us. "Though I can see that at least part of it is true." He looked bothered, and almost disgusted. "So now you're some big shot Captain…"

"Oh, stow it," Yasha sputtered, before Mossfield-three let her go.

They looked at her, before picking up what they had dropped. "We still owe you, so out of respect we aren't going to whip you for beating us in the brawl." The eldest one snorted, but he looked confused as the other two, and almost disappointed. There was a strange measure of respect in his face as he looked at us again- and at me in particular. "Damn. How much of those songs were right?" With another strange look the men tottered off, and Yasha shook her head.

"Some homecoming," I muttered and Yasha shrugged.

I reached out and grabbed her ponytail myself.

"YEOCH!"

"Huh, I'll have to remember that," I snickered while Yasha rubbed the back of her head and glared.

"I would have expected them to hit me," she explained. "Just getting my hair pulled was getting off light."

"I take it you all have history?" I felt rather nosy asking, but I wanted to know how many other potential brawls we might need to avoid.

"Something like that," Yasha muttered. "They're the town bullies. An orphan mage-apprentice, a farm boy without a father and a half wild weed like me were easy targets."

"None of you had protectors," Casavir supplied. "Though parents are usually the last people children will confide in anyways."

Yasha half-shrugged and looked away, her expression pained.

"These were the boys that first made you lose your temper," Elanee said, unexpectedly. Yasha's eyebrows went up and nodded, smiling faintly before looking away, then furrowed her brow. Irony, nostalgia, so many emotions that I couldn't name flitted across her face as she glanced over at the well in the middle of town green.

"You saw?"

"I… I watch all within the Mere," Elanee said, suddenly unsure of herself. I had to wonder how much she was actually watching, but Yasha looked back at her and shook her head, still with that mask of a smile on her face.

"Particularly where I am concerned, I take it."

Elanee's jaw actually clicked as it shut as Yasha continued on to the well and looked down into it. Her voice was low, so low I didn't really hear her until I stepped closer.

"… and I ran to get Brother Merring, and I was so _scared,_ scared and angry. Brother Merring was so much slower than me, so much, and I just _knew_ they were going to drop Bevil. So I… I started hitting them. And kept hitting. I didn't feel it when one of them gave me a back eye and bloodied my nose."

She rubbed her nose then, like she could feel the old injury and laughed a bit, despite her smile becoming a rictus. "I broke Wyl's arm. I didn't know it until Bevil and Brother Merring pulled me off of them. I nearly turned on them."

"It scared you, didn't it?" Casavir was standing on her other side, tilting his head as he gave her a sidelong glance.

Yasha exhaled, and most of her bad memories went out with the air. "Yes. And I did my best to keep myself reined in after that. I didn't rage again until… well, until Amie died."

"Who?" I hadn't heard her mention this person before, and Yasha scratched the back of her head.

"She was my other friend growing up, an apprentice mage. She thought up our games, got Bevil and me into trouble and I had to get us out." For the first time her smile was genuine. "When the village was attacked by the bladelings and sword stalkers, she tried to fight them and… and she died. I… I got angry." She abruptly started walking. "I should pay my respects. The village graveyard is this way."

Casavir looked like he wanted to say something, but thought better of it as we followed her through the village. Other people noticed us, hailing Yasha cautiously, but readily enough. Most were busy with whatever it was that people did in Mere villages or simply rebuilding and didn't approach. There wasn't the same feeling of alienation that I had when I was in Highcliff, but there was a distance there, nonetheless. People were… worried, and about what, I couldn't say.

Yasha kept moving, her steps sure and probably forgetting the fact that Casavir and I had no idea where this graveyard was. My eyes kept scanning- there was a short human man in wizard robes, scratching something into the dirt before a bored child. A small church of Lathander that was hardly more than a one room cabin stood nearby, and a gentle-eyed man in robes watched us pass in silence. Yasha didn't stop, stepping around a patch of barren earth that felt… the small threads of priest in my _flinched_. There was a feeling that something momentous had occurred there, and I looked up in time to see the same breathless expression cross Casavir's face as well. And it _resonated_ with Yasha as she passed around it, and the world was like the moment after a bell had gone silent. The sheer absence of sound was so profound that…

It was gone a heartbeat later and I was left wondering what exactly had happened. Yasha had ducked under a few tree limbs, before stopping at a small patch of mostly dry ground. She, clearly, had felt nothing, and I was forced to trot to catch up with her.

The markers were small, cut from the porous limestone that made up most of the region and covered with the moss that layered many of the buildings. The newest ones hadn't had time to weather like the older ones, before piles of freshly turned earth. We stopped abruptly- and I bumped into Yasha- because we weren't alone.

"It didn't take you long to make new friends," a tall, brawny youth muttered, his tone oddly bitter as he looked at the lot of us. I lifted an eyebrow, trying to understand why he seemed so familiar… then I realized that, sans a foot and with hair, he looked a great deal like the Luskan champion, Lorne. So, this was…

"Bevil," Yasha replied to him, her voice going oddly high. "It's good to see you kept the village in one piece while I was gone."

So, this was Bevil. Yasha had spoken of him as her friend growing up, but from his stance… I had to wonder if that were still true. His entire carriage was weary, and weighed down. There were dark circles under his eyes, and they were red rimmed, too. He leaned away from us, and flinched when Yasha put her hand out to give his shoulder a friendly squeeze. She withdrew it, jaw going slack.

"Are you all right?"

"I'm fine," he snapped, almost too quickly. "Really. I've just had a lot of work, making repairs and… and stuff, since you left. Mother's been very busy." He pressed his lips together, and I knew that the famous West Harbor stubbornness would keep him from answering any other personal questions.

"And the village?" Yasha asked, still trying to get some answers.

"When you took that shard out of the village, it drew the invaders away," Bevil answered slowly. "Everything's been quiet since then. So… could you finish up whatever brought you back and leave? Quickly?"

I stiffened, seeing the stricken look on Yasha's face as she reared back. Her hands flailed in the air, fluttering about before forcing them on to her belt. Casavir, behind me, clinked dangerously and I had to wonder if he was reaching for his war hammer. Then Elanee caught my eye and I relaxed despite the fact that I wanted to smack this young man soundly.

"I- I came back to… I wanted to see Amie, and," she slung off her heavy, bulging pack and reached inside to the carefully wrapped and padded urn that contained Lorne's ashes. "I've brought Lorne home, Bevil."

"Oh." There wasn't much that Bevil could say in response as Yasha offered him the clay vessel. He took it numbly, inhaling and then looking back up at her. "Tell me- tell me the truth, and not one of your crazy stories. I know you won't tell it all to mother, but… but I guess you didn't meet him like this, did you." It wasn't a question.

Yasha shook her head.

"I've been hearing songs about a Harborman avenging a town. Stuff like that. Mom doesn't really listen to bards so she might not have… put it together. I'm not the brightest lamp, but…" He trailed off, before putting the urn down on the ground and Yasha swallowed hard before opening her mouth.

Her tale was short and she didn't say anything about what Lorne might have done, or what she heard from the dryad, or even the slaughter of Ember. And I realized how well this man-boy knew her, when he called her on it.

"Yasha, the word about the trial made it even here. But… but thank you. You tell that to Mom." The young man covered his face. "I don't want to be there when you tell her. I'm… I'm _sorry. I'm so sorry…_"

He stumbled away, not crying yet, but I got the feeling he would be soon.

"There is something else going on here," Elanee whispered, but I don't think Yasha heard her. Instead she was biting her lip, clenching her fists and I stepped back.

"You have other things you need to do here," Casavir gently reminded her, taking her elbow and bringing her gaze back to him. The red on her face, and the tears that she hadn't yet shed subsided. I had a feeling that if we found a big rock she would break her fingers on it. "The priest, for example…"

Yasha nodded before whirling on her heel and heading away. I looked back at Casavir and he looked at me. Together we caught up with Yasha- both within grabbing distance. Her steps continued to the small church, with the speed of someone who had walked this path for years, but I don't think she saw anything until she walked into the closed door. Even then, the door groaned in protest before she opened it.

"Brother Merring?" her voice filled up the stillness of the church.

There wasn't much inside, just a few pews and the symbol of Lathander on the altar. Yasha was already fumbling with the tithe box as she entered, and I nearly stumbled as my eyes adjusted to the dimness. The gentle-eyed man I had seen before walked from a small room adjacent to the main one- it couldn't have been larger than a closet. Whatever he was doing had left his hands stained while carefully wiping them on a towel.

He noticed our curious gaze even before we spoke. "Ah, that. I think that the Harbormen would have thrown me out years ago if I didn't pull my weight by making healing potions," he answered us, then smiled at Yasha broadly. "I see you have been doing well. I take it that the songs we have been hearing about you have some grain of truth?"

The trepidation of this meeting fled and I had to cover my mouth in a smile as Yasha blushed. She thrust out the tithe box. "Some of it. But I made friends with a bard who… um… gets the details wrong."

"Yes, I think so, unless you had suddenly run afoul of a god with a fetish for sex transformations." Brother Merring looked at the tithe box before taking it and putting it down on the altar. "And I think my fellows have forgotten that money and gems will do me little good out in a swamp. I came here to bring light to the Harbormen… I fear that they are also rubbing off on me."

"If I have anything you can use," Yasha began, before Merring shook his head.

"I will buy them from you, but thank you for your offer. Gold is only useful when there are goods to be had, after all." He gestured to the bench. "Come, sit, I'm sure you have much news you want to share…"

She looked tempted, she truly did. "I… I still have some business I need to finish," she responded. Her voice was faint. "I haven't been to the Starling farm yet." She swallowed hard and looked away.

"Ah, well… when you return then." The priest gently patted her shoulder. She smiled down at him. "It must be important, for you were never one to miss the chance for a story."

Blinking quickly, the tall woman turned to us. "Do you mind staying here?" she cleared her throat and turned away. "I… I'd rather you not…"

"We understand." Casavir sounded as if he did. I think… I think I agreed. "We will be here for you."

She flashed him a small, thankful smile, one that pulled a compassionate gaze from him as she steeled herself. I squashed my petty jealousy before turning it into pity. This could not be easy for her.

It didn't stop the awkward silence after she left.

"I apologize for my humble church," Merring began, trying to break the silence. "You are all welcome to stay, of course, but the accommodations here are sparse. You would be best lodged, and probably safest, in Daeghun's house."

"Safest?" Casavir sounded concerned.

"Daeghun?" I asked at the same time- the name was familiar, but I couldn't place where I had heard it before.

"Yes. While there have been no more raids since Yasha left the village, young Bevil was kidnapped a few months ago… he's not been the same since." Merring seemed more concerned about that than for his own punitive safety. "While I do doubt that it would happen again, Daeghun's cabin is far more secure than here." There was an amused smile on his face. "He practices putting out traps there."

"Yes, but _who_ is he?" That bothered me, because where I had heard it was _just_ on the tip of my-

"Yasha's foster father. I'm sorry; I would have thought she would have told you." _Oh. _Of course, that was it…

"She does not often speak of him," Casavir pointed out. In fact, I don't think she had ever mentioned this guy around Casavir at all. "And rarely of West Harbor. We have been busy, but…"

"That does not surprise me. Their relationship has often been… strained." Merring cleared his throat. "Forgive me. It is not my place to speak."

"Yasha told me that he trained her to be a ranger, and that she was afraid he blamed her for the death of his wife." Well, I knew from being around Yasha that sometimes bald honest worked. "And I'd really like to know what's going on before I go ask a man to stay in his house."

I could feel eyes boring into my back. Merring sank down on to one of the well worn pews, looking very old.

"Daeghun is man that keeps his thoughts and feelings to himself. I also wish that I could have somehow helped him, healed his soul." Merring started examining his hold symbol intently. "Yasha did not deserve to be in a house where she was treated like a painful reminder. All the child ever wanted growing up was his attention and his praise. I think, at times, she would have even taken his scorn if it meant he actually felt something…" He trailed off, before sighing heavily and rubbing his hands over his face. "Yet there were no others to care for her. After the battle with the King of Shadows, no one could afford another mouth to feed, and if they could, none would have taken on the orphaned child of Esmerelle. There are still whispers that she is cursed."

I was aghast. "So- so they just left her with a man who neglected her? She- she loves these people-"

"Neglected? Daeghun is a man who takes his duty seriously. She never wanted for anything, but there was never any love there… not that I could see. Yasha thinks differently."

"He cared for her." This time it was Elanee to interrupt, but she did not explain. Considering how much she seemed to know about this place, I wouldn't be surprised if she knew something we didn't, but I wish she would have elaborated.

"And there were always exceptions." His own fond tone spoke of himself as one. "And those that were not found her useful. Georg, the leader of our militia, would often keep her for hours with his stories, while Retta would hold her down in the bath tub and use a scrub brush when she had been playing out in the Mere for hours on end." He sighed softly. "These were the people she fought for and loved. The Mossfields and other families allowed her to be bullied, showing their own ignorance. We were blessed that anyone survived that battle at all."

The words tapered off, leaving Merring pale and weak.

"Are you…"

"The Mere is growing dark, and the Morninglord's light seems further and further from me." He stood, brushing off his robe. "It leaves all of those who are sensitive to such things feeling weak. Everyone here lives on the edge of this… twilight… and it will eventually swallow us up. But try telling a Harborman that."

"Why do you stay?" At his words I felt it, just a little, this sense of a shadow crawling across the Mere and swallowing up all in its path. Just… just a little… Why hadn't I felt this before? I hadn't really noticed it until Yasha wandered away.

"I have been here for the past twenty years. As a young man I ran with the others into the Mere to escape the war here, and while I was not the one to deliver Yasha, I knew Esmerelle and Daeghun's wife, Shayla. After knowing such people… and being here so long, I suppose I have gone native." His smile was ironic. "I will not abandon the people here, not until they are willing to leave."

Perhaps it was his words, but I fancied I could feel more of the coldness seeping into the Mere, feeling it try to claw at the hearts and lives of the people here. Yet… yet these Harbormen were such a stubborn lot. I imagined they would continue fighting even after there was nothing but ashes left.

"You come to love these people," Casavir murmured. "Because of their very stubbornness. You envy them their will to keep going even when it seems like the world is falling apart around them." I think he was talking about the people of Old Owl Well. I think. I really didn't know how I felt about him mentioning that he was in love with Yasha so easily.

"Come, it is getting late." I could have kissed Elanee right then, gently interrupting and giving us something else to focus on. "I know where Daeghun's cabin is and we should see if our host is about. Hopefully Yasha will not take long."

I nodded, and wanted to drag Casavir out of there. It was almost _embarrassing, _and then I felt quite ridiculous myself. I felt much the same way… Yasha was someone we all cared about because of her stubbornness and temper, as much for her kindness….

Dusk had fallen as we left the small church, bathing the rest of the village green in shadow. I could see the bald spot on the ground, so innocuous now, as we stepped out. I could imagine a stick of a girl, with dirty hair and smudged face, running about with two other children and throwing a horrific tantrum…

Casavir was caught in a similar reverie.

"Yasha used to play here often," Elanee began. "There were also times when her father would take her into the Mere for training. He would deliberately leave her alone after teaching her a simple lesson on survival, then let her find her way back by herself."

"Harsh lessoning," I responded. I didn't want to say much, because if I did, she would probably go silent again.

"He never put her into more than she could handle. He was nearby, often… if not always."

"Did she know this?"

"I don't know. Once she was lost, and crying…" Elanee paused. "A friendly badger found her."

Not for the first time, it occurred to me that Elanee's interest in Yasha was quite maternal, and more than just for someone who 'watched all within the Mere.' She fussed over Yasha's wounds, reminding her often to treat them, and was especially careful when it came to putting protective magics on her. There were many times she used the same voice my mother did, when I had been caught misbehaving.

Elanee appeared even more nostalgic than we. "The night of the attack, Yasha flew into her first rage in years. Amie was an impulsive child- I had noticed that often- and had intervened with the fight between her master and the githyanki Sword Stalker. She was slain instantly. I… I had not wept in a century, but seeing this village, where there were so many happy moments, burning… I wept."

It didn't take long for us to reach the Farlong residence. The door was open, our shoes were soaked…

And the man of the house was at home.

"So, you are my daughter's guests."

Daeghun Farlong was not what I had expected. He was an elf, which threw me off immediately. He was rather striking, as most elves are, and a quick glance at Elanee told me that he was even striking for an elf. He strode with confidence and otherworldly grace, oddly familiar… and I reasoned it was a far more refined version of Yasha's lope. He wore simple leathers, standing in the door of his home and taking our measure with a raised eyebrow.

"Well met," Elanee began. "You're Daeghun, aren't you? We are traveling with-"

"I know who you are, Elanee of the Mere," he interrupted. "You are welcome here, but I also warn you that you may not stay for long. Your presence, especially Yasha's, will draw attention back to this village and it cannot shelter anyone for long."

Well… that could have gone better…

"As it is, you may stay the night."

His words were cold and abrupt, and he left quickly. We parted before him- he seemed much larger than life in many ways- and let him go without further questions.

I had urged Yasha, once, to question her father on certain things, and I it had niggled the back of my mind as to why she hadn't tried before. Gods knew _I_ had hounded my mother about my father as a child. But a man this quiet, and blunt… how the hell had he reared a child like Yasha? He had to have felt like a hawk trying to raise a kitten.

Wordlessly we entered, looking at the small, humble house with its simple hearth and table. Yasha's head would have been scraping the ceiling in places. There were well worn, tattered books on a shelf across from us and on the mantle, along with a very stained doll dressed in patched calico. A small wooden bear was beside it, sans an ear and an eye. It was a simple place, with few frills and one painting on the wall. There was the occasional well made chest, and a hutch holding simple pottery.

My rambling farm house had been far too large for me, and much better appointed- wherever my family had originally came from, we had not been that poor. This place reflected the rest of West Harbor in its austerity…

I blinked, then, because in that same hutch, underneath a wooden pitcher was a board game.

Well, there wasn't much else to do on the long nights, I supposed… It just required two players.

The table was semi-set, with more than three chairs around it, a basket of bread and fruit, and a small stack of bowls. My eyebrows went up when I caught the scent of stew from a pot next to the fire.

"Did we interrupt our host's meal?" Casavir asked, stating my thoughts, but that didn't seem quite right. Unless he had invited many others, this was far more than one person could eat.

Elanee shrugged, putting down her equipment, but there was a small smile on her face. "We should go ahead and eat, else it go to waste. Yasha will be back soon," and then she looked troubled. "She will need us then, I think."

I wanted to take the elf-woman aside and have a nice, long talk with her about what she did and did not know about this place, but true to her words, Yasha chose that moment to return.

I had never seen her in tears before. I didn't now, but her face was blotchy, eyes red and she was breathing as if she had run from Fort Locke. I had stowed my own equipment aside already, and without a word I put my arms out. She stumbled forward, sniffing dangerously, and I saw that her knuckles were already bloody and raw. I drew her close, sitting down as she went to her knees. Her head in my lap, she just shook… and I looked up helplessly at Casavir, gently stroking her hair.

None of us had seen her like this, needing help when she had usually been the one to give it. Even Elanee was at a loss as she stood on the other side of the room. I had no sympathy for Lorne, but I did feel sorry for his family. It was to be the final irony of the slaughter: even in death that man would be able to hurt people. Especially the woman who had killed him.

Healing hearts was something no magic could accomplish, but Elanee carefully spooned up a bowl of stew and held it out. From the scent it was some kind of fish and very spicy. I took the bowl and put it under Yasha's nose.

"You'll feel better after you eat something," I murmured, but Yasha shook her head. I noticed that there was also a loaf of sweet nut bread on the table. "Come on, something. No one is going to send you to bed if you don't eat a good supper, but… come on…" This time it was Casavir who passed things along. I was apparently the designated feeder, as I waved the bread.

This got her attention, blinking in surprise. One hand came out, and I forced a tired smile.

"Wash your hands first," I chided. They were a bloody mess. It got the desired reaction as she chuckled and got to her feet.

Our host had either been planning a dinner party or he had gotten so used to being a father that he was keeping things ready even with his daughter gone. There was wash water in a tub beside the fire. Cleaning the blood off her hands didn't take more than a few moments before she had grabbed the entire loaf of bread and was picking chunks off and popping them in her mouth.

"And you still love your sweets," Elanee murmured as she took her self appointed position to serve the rest of us. I revised my opinion of the stew: it wasn't just spicy, it was like dragon breath. Even as I reached for my water flask Casavir started coughing.

Yasha launched into her bowl... but her nose began to run, along with her eyes, and sweat popped out on her skin. Yet she didn't complain. Perhaps this had been her father's method of toughening her up as a child.

Elanee ate her portion with as little protest. I suppose you had to be a native to truly appreciate the local cooking.

The tension was broken, as Yasha returned to her normal color and I sighed. Very few words were spoken after that, but I did see Yasha gaze at everything with a sort of fond nostalgia. Her gaze lingered on the old toys, on the painting, and she even took her time when she started doing dishes. Casavir was smiling, both at Yasha and at the humble abode.

It was quite a change from the Keep. Or anywhere else we had been on this journey. I was happy to see calm return to her, and I stood and stretched and took a quick walk outside to the outhouse. The moon trailed her tears as I took in the noisy cricket and frog symphony and the utter lack of human voices. Oh, surely, we had been places as quiet. My own farm had its own infernal silence that would drive me mad. But this quiet was oddly soothing, and I felt no fear despite the reputation of the Mere.

I realized why I felt guarded, the same sense of safety that came from being in Yasha's bedroom, when I looked up and saw the stern visage of our host watching me from his self-assigned post beside one of the massive trees. If he hadn't wanted to be seen I was sure I would not have. He acted with vast experience, watching me stoically as I made my way out.

Doing my business took only a short time, and I was out quickly, only to be caught by his impassive gaze. No… impassive didn't seem quite right. He was weighing and measuring me and I didn't know how to feel about it.

Something about him seemed inquisitive. I had to wonder how I could read the man so well, but I was certain of this. Of course, I could read his daughter like a book by now. It was a book full of dog eared pages and rings from wine cups, but I could still read it…

"I have heard a great many songs about my daughter since she had left," he began, but I got the feeling it was really a question. "And in them she is invariably mentioned having a lover."

I blinked, and flushed, not sure if it was anger or embarrassment warming my cheeks. Did that many people notice that Casavir liked her? Or was I just oblivious to how much he doted? I had hoped…

"It's not quite like that-"

"I will tell you this, and as someone she values, I hope that you will do me this favor." The words sounded awkward, given this man's abrupt style. Hells, I'm a farmer and even I'm not as blunt as he is. Asking a favor had to be quite odd for him. "My daughter needs to know that she has to love, completely and totally in the moment. Love can be taken from you at any time, when you least expect it. Friendship as well. Enjoy the moment while it lasts. While hearts sometimes heal… they will never be the…"

He trailed off, and I realized I had not heard the subject of our odd conversation approach. She had the surprised look of someone who had been on her way to the outhouse only to hear some unexpected gossip… which of course had been the case. We must have been running together too long.

"Father," Yasha began, and she paused. I think I could finally understand where her lack of eloquence came from. "I want to hear about my mother."

The elf exhaled, before giving me a stern look. My new skills at interpretation informed me that getting out of here now would be good for my continued health.

"Yes, my daughter." He gazed up at her, without any of the fondness I recalled from my own father. "We do have something to discuss."

I walked back inside before realizing that I needed to help with the final cleanup. It didn't take that long as there wasn't much to finish.

"I can stay here," Elanee volunteered. "My kind's rest does not require that I take a bed. Casavir, there is a bedroom on the second floor to the right. Shandra, Yasha's room is at the end of the hall." She looked down at the fireplace. "They might be awhile talking."

Casavir and I looked at each other before we shrugged. Together we trooped up the stairs, carrying our weapons and gear. Side by side we looked down the small hallway.

"I do not know if I have a greater sense of understanding after coming here or not," Casavir mused. "Though at least I have more information." He smiled faintly. "I have to wonder what it would have been like living in such a place my entire life…"

"You certainly wouldn't smell as good," I commented thoughtlessly- but it earned a surprised chuckle from the paladin.

"Indeed, I would have that constant scent about me," he replied, and I found myself smiling in response. It was good to hear even that weak sound coming from him. I was always surprised to hear any forms of mirth from the man. "I hope that our lead- Yasha," he amended, glancing at me, "will be more at peace after this. Something has been bothering her for some time."

I shrugged, but I had noticed it as well. Our trip to the ruins of Arvahn to begin the ritual of purification had been put off. Not that I really objected to the downtime… we all needed the time to recuperate. "Well… its got to be a bit overwhelming for her. I get the feeling that whatever she thought the future might be, this was not it."

Casavir looked away, but I noticed the faintest hint of a smile on his face. "I think that many futures have been changed since meeting her."

I laughed a bit, before my mind went back to Daeghun's rather confusing words. Did he refer to her relationship with Casavir? Was it about being friends? Or was he speaking of my own relationships? I suddenly had the desire for a good stiff drink, but all there had been was cider.

In a funk, I ignored Casavir as he went on into the other bedroom. My own room waited me… which had to be Yasha's. The bed was longer than most, and barely wide enough. Which meant it would be more than large enough for your average human. I sat down on it and it exhaled the scent of peat moss. It shouldn't have surprised me- she didn't look like she could afford a feather bed.

Boots came off as did my breeches, folding them up. Lying down, I looked at the ceiling. I recalled looking at my familiar one in my own house, and I had to wonder what crossed her mind before she went to sleep. Did she imagine fighting githyanki and the King of Shadows? Did she dream of tarnished paladins and rescuing farmers? I hadn't. My paladins had shone in the sun. They always rescued me before my barn burned. Maybe with enough gold I could…

My thoughts had gotten incoherent as the evening past, and sometime around midnight Yasha returned.

I stirred enough peek at her though my lashes. The tears from earlier had vanished, replaced by frustration and resignation. Apparently her discussion with he father hadn't gone as hoped.

"Hey."

My answer was a grunt, and the sound of someone laying out cloth. Even here… she was letting me have her bed. If I had been more awake I might have been flattered or offended. Instead, I had a question.

"D'you dream about it?"

"About what?"

"After this. When you've beaten him and gotten the Keep fixed up and… everything. What do you want to do after this?"

Yasha paused, looking down at me with a frown- before both her eyebrows shot up and her jaw dropped. It was brief; barely a moment before mouth clicked closed and shook her head. I didn't think about it anymore because she was sitting down at sprawling on the clean wood floor.

"Not anymore…"

To be continued.


End file.
